Had fondue for dinner last night; extremely weird, multiple-layer dreams ensued. One of the layers of the dream was me thinking 'that was a weird dream I just had'. The wonders of cheese.
So far, I'm quite enjoying being in Geneva; the streets are paved with cheese and beer comes in towers. The fact that I'm not actually living in Geneva, but just across the border in France, is becoming slightly irritating though. It means that I usually have to leave whatever shindig is going on while the night is but young, in order to catch the last number 9 bus home. It does have some advantages, my apartment is bigger than the ones most of the students have (and has an oven - a very lusted-after commodity) and the cheese is cheaper on this side of the divide. I'll be moving into Geneva itself in a month or so, so I guess I shouldn't get too attached to these things.
Farewell for now, cheese-fans...