I finally persuaded the University of the West of England (UWE) (which was the less academic version of Bristol University) to offer me a place studying modern languages. (Incidentally, I had only pulled this off by going down there in person and begging the admissions lady for a place, face-to-face, after sitting outside her office all day. This was becoming a familiar pattern. Well, at least, I have always been persistent.) I wasn't allowed to study purely Spanish, which I loved, so I had to do German and Spanish. My run-in with the beautiful German Tatiana had led me to believe that the German language might be as beautiful as her. Boy, was I wrong. The language is a pig to learn. This became the first nail in the coffin of my university experience.