Well, our passports arrived and now I have no excuse to not go to Portugal*. I have mixed feelings about this though. As I explained, tremulously, during the produção oral of the B1 exam, “tenho medo de voar” – I am scared of flying – and it’s pretty hard to get there by canoe, so I will just have to wash down a couple of diazepam with a generous bottle or two of scotch and hope to wake up there. We’re going in a few weeks time, so it’ll be before the exam, and that should help a lot. When I arrive I’ll be in full homework mode. If anyone tries to talk to me in English, rather than awkwardly explain that I am trying to learn I’m just doing to say “desculpe, sou Dinamarquês” and profess a total lack of knowledge of my own mother tongue in any form. Pro Skills.
*=I know, I know, we’re both in the EU so passports aren’t needed, but in these Brexity times who knows when Theresa May will decide to slam the borders shut?