The fun thing about 19th-century brick dormitories is that when it’s 70 degrees and sunny outside, it’s 80 degrees and musty inside. And when you open all the windows, every spider in Cardiff comes in to host the Welsh Arachnid Convention on the ceiling. And in a building of a hundred girls, you’d be amazed how hard it is to find anyone willing to take Kleenex or a vacuum to them.
But I opened the window to air out my room, and besides arachnids, what came in was the sound of a full jazz ensemble practicing a lively concert piece next door. There are perks to living next to the Cardiff School of Music.
I spend a lot of time complaining about Aberdare, but deep down, I feel about it the way I feel about my old Subaru Mom-mobile: It’s a rustbucket, but it’s my rustbucket.