By the end of my first year in Bournemouth I had made plans to rent and share a house together with four friends- Ms. Cordula, Ms. Marit, Mr. Frederick and Ms. Christine. We looked at surprisingly few places before finding house Number 5 in Maple Road, a ten minute walk from the university.
   After convincing Cordula that it was possible to remove all the naked girls from the walls (there were four guys living there at the time) we decided that that was to be our humble abode for the next year.
   In October 1997 (after a cool summer) I arrived at the house, followed shortly by the others. I had the room on the bottom floor and Cordula had the room above mine. I never did figure out what the thumping sounds throughout the year were...maybe a bizarre ritual dance.
   It wasn't long before it was established that the two men in the house were somewhat more adept at cooking meals than the women (times are a' changin'). Cordula for example (sorry to pick on ya Cord) tended to leave her pasta cooking while she took a long shower. Don't forget Marit's love of bean sprouts and Christine's "very well-done" fish-fingers!
   The Kentucky Fried Chicken on the main street around the corner didn't do wonders for our healthy diet either. Rather, more than once it helped develop our laziness (aww screw it, I'm just gonna go and get a Chicken Variety Meal.)
   Frederick always did have ideas for the kitchen though. One time he was cooking pancakes and broke one while flipping it. When Christine enters the kitchen he tells her that "this one fell on the floor, but it's still good" and takes a bite. She freaked out and began calling him stupid and disgusting while he'd say "hey, the floor's clean - I cleaned it a couple of days ago!"
   It was fun to see Christine get angry... During one of the various parties we had at our place one of Cordula's course-mates had a little too much and deposited it in our kitchen sink - pretty disgusting. But no one was more disgusted than Christine, and that guy got HELL from her - I can still remember him getting kicked out!
   During another party the ground-floor toilet got 'relocated'. The details of how it exactly happened are sketchy, but it had something to do with a rowdy girl called Tania and her 'target' - Mr. Anti (our future companion in the house). Basically he was leaving and she objected to the idea. When her grip on his belt slipped in the front-door corridor she crashed back into the toilet door, and on top of whoever was in the small water-closet... (Side Note: Tania did manage to score a chocolate-flavoured version of her target at a later time. Frederick over breakfast at Corrado's: "Would you like some whipped-cream with your hot chocolate Tania?" ;)
   After my first year at 5 Maple Road I was off to do my summer work experience placements together with Mr. Jones. That summer I also went to Norway to visit Maria and had her and Hilde come down to Rome as well. But those stories are for another section (that'll be pointed out when they're up).
   The second year at number 5 (and my final one at Bournemouth) came with a few changes. The most dramatic one was the swap of Christine for Anti. She left for her one-year work experience in Florida while Anti, ANOTHER Scandinavian (yes, I know you're not Scandinavian Cordula, but you're from 'up there' as well. Now at least us guys outnumbered the gals, and they couldn't beat us as much as before, although the belt was still kept on the fridge.
   The other big change for me (that affected my entire year) was called Maria - another lovely Scandinavian (can't seem to get away from these people!) but that is a very long story! If you're listening Maria and feel like contributing any pictures or stories (The House and Landlord could be good!) then send them over!
   By the Gods, I remember the dissertation and the advertising campaigns I had to produce for my course (yes, I was actually in Bournemouth to study, really).
   During the time I was working on them (no, I never leave anything 'till the last minute, honest) my room was a bottom-less pit filled with paper, and paper, and paper. Somewhere under it all I sometimes could find a small part of my bed to sleep on. Thankfully I had some great friends to pull me through it all (and to go to the pub with when I should have been working).
   I remember the day I finished the dissertation (on the deadline). Tony and I had a simple plan: go to mass at church and then head on over to the Conservative Party Club located near my house. Er, no. Actually the plan was to go out and consume generous amounts of alcohol.
   Tony said: "Simon, come on over, I'm printing my dissertation - we'll have a couple here and then we'll go back to your place, you get ready, and we catch the bus with the girls (Cordula, Marit and some others I think)." When I arrive at Tony's we immediately go down to the off-license (read: "liquor store" for you gringos) and get a couple of bottles of white wine. Back to his place - on to the roof (where Liz was sunbathing I think - it was almost summer!). Back down to the off-licence, two more bottles of wine. Back to Tony's.
   Now, this guy's alcohol-intake ability is out of the ordinary. He seems to drink faster and faster the more he drinks, but when he finished his bottle of white in 5 minutes (the crazy-ass just chugged it) I couldn't believe it. "Where's the bottle you just bought? I didn't know you had one in the fridge?" "This is it - done." So here I was, trying to keep up with the bastard, and that was my big mistake of the day.
   To make a long(winded) story short, I made good friends with the toilet and the shower (drenching my shirt), and not-so-good-friends with Tony's back-pack on the floor of his room (or with Tony after that). After that all I remember is vaguely 'walking' to the club where we were supposed to go to; Tony wasn't gonna let me stay sleeping in his bathroom. Somehow they allowed me to go in and all I know is that I woke up in one of the toilet cubicles of this club. "What the hell??"
   So there I was, wearing a ridiculous 70's 'formal' shirt, with shorts, and tennis shoes. Needless to say I provided most of the comedy in the club-crowd that night, but I somehow continued drinking, and it was a fun night after all!
   There are many other stories to tell (Double Red-Bull and Vodkas/Barclays cash-point Tony?), but I'm going to digress for now and invite any of you people I knew/met during my time in 5 Maple Road to send them in and share 'em!
   To be continued...

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