Arriba!

Okay, I’m going to confess something: I’m not sure which sound I should be making for Morocco. Instinctually “Arriba” feels both appropriate and completely wrong. I guess this means I shouldn’t be wearing a sombrero either. (Side note: I tried to write “misfitting” and the Mac, being all ignorant, corrected it to “mishitting” which I read as “mis-shitting.” Tee hee).

Aaaanyway, the main thing to take away from the first paragraph is that tomorrow night Mark and I are flying to London Stansted (where we’ll spend a lovely five hours touring the airport and sleeping on seats) before heading to Morocco. Arrrrrriba!

Sorry, again.

I shall report on how we both came down with a terrible case of something unpronounceable when we get back.

In other news – I hope you’re near the toilet because I’d hate for you to soil yourself with excitement – we are no longer homeless! We signed a lease for a two-bedroom apartment in Schwabing West today. Our landlord is all kinds of lovely and went to great lengths to explain the contract to us. We didn’t really need the explanations (our gazillion or so sub-leases have practically made us experts in the field of German property law), but it was mighty entertaining anyway. At least two of his examples involved a mysterious death in the apartment. Who knew legalities could be so much fun?

If all goes according to plan we’ll be picking up our keys on the 26^th of April and moving in promptly afterwards. If somebody could call Ikea and forewarn it about the tornado of flailing, excited limbs that are about to hit it, that would be great.