Formons les plus brillants concerts;

Quand Jupiter porte les fers

De l'incomparable Platée,

Je veux que les transports de son âme enchantée,

S'expriment par mes chants divers.

If you didn't understand any of that, don't worry; I didn't either. It's from a French opera called Air de la Folie by Rameau. But I'm not here to brag about that. I went to Leeds that Saturday night to see an opera; my first in Europe since Florence back in my undergrad exchange. Some people in their twenties spend their nights out in bars, pubs, or clubs, but I'd much prefer the opera or symphony myself. And did frequent- lots. At cheaper-priced seats of course.

After the opera was over, I took the train back to York; it wasn't a long ride. I'd been living in York for two weeks now and wanted to get out of the city for a day. Don't get me wrong, I love York. But Leeds was bigger and had my most favorite guilty pleasure food-wise: Taco Bell. In masters, I used to take the train from Edinburgh to Glasgow for the sole purpose of going to Taco Bell. I visited their many museums and university, of course; but Taco Bell was the main draw. I got myself two tacos before heading back. How's that for class? Stop in for junk food after an evening at the opera? And I loved it.

I walked from the train station back to my college building. I had a bike but didn't trust it locked up at the station just yet. Besides, it was like a fifteen minute walk back to my place and the streets were always full of life at night; and not in the bad way either. I put in my music and strolled back, enjoying that post-taco feeling of regret and gurgles. Ah, good times.

I lived at an apartment building owned by the university in downtown; it was actually right across the street from the castle, if you can believe that. Only postgrads like me could live there, so it was a fairly quiet building. My room was on the ground floor, which is the American equivalent of the first floor; I don't understand it either- don't ask. When I approached the front of the building, something caught my eye as off.

A motorcycle. Huh- that's weird. No one here owned a car; we literally had nowhere to park it. It costed an arm and a leg to use the bike shed out back. I mean, I guess someone could have a motorcycle here, but why? Just like why? Curious, I went inside and climbed the staircase to my floor. My room was halfway down the hallway on the left side; just a simple room with a single bed, chair, desk and chair, and single-person bathroom with a shower. I only knew one other person on my floor- Steph Jones who was also ironically from America. She was getting her PhD in biology; she also lived right across the hall from me luckily. Her door was open when I got back. She immediately smiled at me upon my arrive from where she was sitting on her bed.

"Hey, Tessy. How was Leeds?" "Lovely. How was your Saturday?" "Eh, got some research done," she gave a half-hearted shrug and glanced away. Well that's more work than I did, I thought unlocking my door. "Did you see that motorcycle outside?" "Huh?" Her eyes turned back to me. "A bike; there's a motorcycle outside." "Oh! That's Hardin's; he's my friend," was her short explanation. "Oh," my head nodded as I opened my door. She flashed me another brilliant smile. "Going to bed?" "Yeah, I'm exhausted," French opera and Taco Bell will do that to a person. "Ok; well, have a good night." "You too. Night night!" And with that, I shut the door behind me and promptly forgot about the conversation.