I've been trying to have more conversations generally. Our language class is full of fascinating people and we've been chatting and even bonding. Yoga classes have been started by a charismatic Canadian-Russian-Croat, and as a result of our mutual interest, I'm now partnered with her for our civilisation classes assessed presentation. I'm sure I'll be talking more about that in due course, but needless to say, after 20 minutes research, and thanks to academic.edu, I've a coffee date next week with a Dalmatian Klapa singing expert.
Yesterday after class a lovely Italian lady called Maria-Cristina and I were out having a tea in a local bar. She has lived all over Europe, working with teachers to improve the teaching quality of foreign languages. She has worked in many types of places and we discussed the skill of making any space into an 'office'. As I'm struggling with this she recommended I take a look at the local library. So we talked libraries, poetry, Bloomsbury and Croatia. She also recommended some groups on Facebook.
One of these groups - Expats in Split - is having a Language Exchange gathering on Easter Monday and I think I shall pop along. A discussion with a few people in the group has also raised the possibility of a writers' meet up/critique/motivation which sounds like something we all need.
Even the guys in the bar at the end of the road were chatty. Like an idiot, on Monday, I completely forgot that I had yoga in the afternoon. At lunch I'd been home and had been utterly distracted by a homemade strawberry cream cake. I'm not one to go into rhapsodies about cream cakes but this one was angel light and just as heavenly. Understandably physical action had left my mind, as I was consumed by cake. So this is why I found myself legging it down the road to pick up my forgotten yoga pants and mat. The young gentleman wanted to know why I was running, and so a witty exchange was had. Unless you're in appropriate clothing, running around like a Londoner just isn't done in this town, so they obviously thought it hysterical. Especially when a few minutes later, I dashed back with my mat.
And finally conversation with my adoptive family; there was a wifi crisis a few days ago so I popped downstairs. There was a condition attached to my internet connection. Whilst Milan sorted it out, I was left holding the baby. Actually holding a baby. She's a sweetie with an adorable baby hair quiff and really not entertained by me and a stuffed rabbit going boing. He kept laughing at my feeble attempts but at least she wasn't crying! And I've been rewarded by marvellous soup twice this week.
You know, this place is incredibly friendly, and the more people I speak with, the more you can fall in love with it. I hope that improving weather, a local library, and a continued spate of early nights will help!