Just returned from a night started at the Erasmus social and finished in a club named Plug, a supplement can be added to the previous post - boys' dressing down (which is not an uncommon sight in clubs at all):

However, the main purpose of the night, rather than taking pics of body painted guys, was offering an appropriate welcome to our guest Sonja, who enjoyed the pre drinking next to an old factory building with us and Nils:

It's about time the topic of fashion gets a blog entry of its own.

The word most characteristic of in how far people here dress differently than the way we're used to is probably the word "less". Sometimes you can't help suspecting there is an unwritten and unspoken law saying that it is every Brit's duty to wear the smallest possible number of clothes. Or is there another way of explaining why

• loads of girls combine a short top with tights (or -->jeggings) and boots but leave the skirt at home and
• virtually nobody puts on a coat on nights out (yes, we're still in England, and no, despite global warming it is not warm hereabouts, especially not at night)?

Definition #11: jeggings: leggings that look like denim trousers. And look horrible.

But probably the most irritating "less" reveals itself in the length of dresses. You have to feel blessed if both of a girl's bum cheeks are covered. Because often enough they aren't. A girl in an average length dress for a night out in Sheffield would probably be classified as "naked" in Germany, just to give you a rough idea of what we're talking here.

Another remarkable difference is the amount of fancy dress going on.

Definition #12: fancy dress: dressing up based on a particular theme, eg. sports, super heroes, film stars etc. (= Mottoparty)

While you and we have come to know fancy dress parties as events that sometimes take place in shared flats, effectively every organised meeting at night in Sheffield is a fancy dress meeting: socials of sports and other societies, birthday parties etc.

With the additional disparity, however, that all these events are scheduled to move to one of the night clubs after the kick-off in a pub or bar, leading to a wild mixture of action heroes (like spiderman or super mario), monsters (like Frankenstein and zombies) and all sorts of other fashion outrages on the dancefloor.

Last night's volleyball social was themed "professions". After some time of fruitless hard thinking we had simply popped into the pound shop hoping for inspiration to descend onto us. Ten minutes later, arguably the cheapest fancy dress ever had been born: for a pound each, we bought multi-purpose overalls as well as sets of goggles and gas masks facilitating our and Nick's housemate Cat's metamorphosis into nuclear reactor workers:

At least that's what we hoped we looked like. - Most people thought we're chemists or something:-P

The other socials had come down handsomely as well, so amongst others, the smurfs were present, too:

Summing up, the normal thing to do for a night out here is either fancy dress or dress up. The latter of which, as explained above, rather means "dress less". The only unnormal thing to do: wearing normal clothes...

Definition #10: Rocktoberfest: British rip-off of the famous Bavarian feast, featuring a "crazy German oom-pah troupe" named The Bavarian Stompers playing IRISH SONGS (!) and a rather semi-cool Kings of Leon tribute band semi-creatively named Kins of Leon.

A truly British day was experienced on Saturday. It started out with our first visit to a British football arena. We went to see the local second division club Sheffield United playing Cardiff. With over 25,000 supporters attending (in second division!), the match did not fail to entertain us, ending 3-4, with another 2 goals disallowed for offside and the first four goals scored within 5 minutes.

After the football, we - as becomes a group of proper Englishmen - made our way to a pub, where we hung out for the first part of the night, before we set off to reunite with the very first people we had met in Sheffield. Having hosted us as couchsurfers for our first two nights, they were now hosts of their very own "festival":

Meeting these people again was nice, but also made us realise that five weeks have already passed since we arrived in Sheffield. Which is a long time and a short time at once; long because it's already quite a substantial proportion of our time in the UK and there's still so many places and things to discover, and short because it's hard to believe so much has happened in only 35 days. We have become at home here quite much and know our way around things (most of the time, anyway;-)). We're already approaching -->reading week.

Definition #11: reading week: a week in the middle of the semester in which most classes don't take place so students have time to finally (do what they've been (doing the whole way through anyway but still) looking forward to: party party party!) catch up on their reading.

Motion #1: All German universities are hereby requested to adopt this practice immediately, including an increased amount of student parties during this week.

Reasoning: According to BIER, article no. 15a, no application of double standards is permitted between universities in different countries (principle of egalitarianism).

Explanation #1: BIER = Book of International Educational Rules

If you ever get the chance to see Franz Ferdinand perform - go for it!

Once started, the drummer's right foot didn't stop stomping his bass drum until the end of the concert, keeping the audience firmly in line throughout an impressive 90 minutes of d-i-s-c-o.

All you Scara lovers out there would have felt more at home than ever during the last minutes of the show, as Franz Ferdinand, after serving the audience with their success singles such as Take Me Out and Dark of the Matinee, proceeded to give a sweeping account of their dancefloor touch with 20 minutes of electronic excellence. Closing your eyes could take you into Scara's dwellings at 3 in the morning, kept upright only by the ever-rolling beat and lead through multiple trances by uncountable ever so slight alterations of the synthesiser's mazes.

On Monday, the international party people (2 Finns, 1 Swede, 1 Indian, 3 Germans, 1 Zonenkind:-P) gathered at Mike's place, before giving "Sheffield's biggest & best student night" at Leadmill Club a go. Rather disappointed by the music featured on the two floors, we left even before closing time (which is unfamiliarly early at most establishments in Sheffield, the average being 2.30am).

Our anxiety turned out to be unfounded: rather than packed with hooligans, the bar we went to to watch the match was - almost empty. A possible hint at the English dislike for the Germans having transformed into indifference? Would be a start;)

It turned out volleyball teams, besides drinking, do also play volleyball (if only to justify the name of the society), so the team made its way up to the grim north to play Durham University. It turned out their supply of people taking an interest in volleyball was even worse than at Sheffield Uni, resulting in their team average height being around 5'9" and their 2-3 defeat by the Sheffield team.

Definition #5: volleyball: ball game for guys who lack the BALLS for real sports like mass punch-ups (aka rugby) or football (the national sanctuary) and are therefore to be regarded as girly or...

Insight #5: ...gay: apparently the worst fate that can befall a guy in England

Clarification (by way of anecdote): wearing a vest (see below for definitions) for the car ride to Durham, Nick was immediately confronted with the s-or-g question, and subsequently instructed never-ever-and-under-no-circumstances-whatsoever to wear a vest around the city centre as this was highly probable to get you beaten up. Surprised clothing was supposed to identify an individual as to their sexual orientation, and shocked one of these was likely to engage violent attention from English yobs, Nick went home to commit another lethal sin: as bike offers on ebay were rare, he darted for the first available bike, namely a Raleigh ladies' bike. While not uncommon in Germany, a bloke riding a ladies' bike in England seems to be a major offence to manhood - and therefore, according to Nick's housemate, another reason to get beaten up in the city centre.

Definition #6: vest: British term denoting a sleeveless shirt, tanktop

Definition #7: s-or-g question, the: asking someone whether they are straight or gay

Definition #8: yob: [chiefly British slang] A rowdy, aggressive, or violent young man

Still hoping for these predictions to be exaggerated, and the English not being as homophobic as assessed, the next sunny day is going to see Nick riding his ladies' bike around the city centre. Wearing a vest. Check this blog for a report and candid camera pics.

Not going to happen today, though. Ain't gonna waste tickets to see FRANZ FERDINAND perform at the O2 Academy tonight! It's gonna be legen- [wait for it and I hope you're not lactose-intolerant because the next word is] - da(i)ry!

Speaking of legendary, we have a visitor! Arriving last night, Krissi has joined the Sheffielders for the whole of one week! Awesome.

We'll see if, while introducing her to Sheffield's night life, we'll be confronted with further surprises of the kind we experienced last Monday. Entering "Sheffield's only superclub" (self promotion of the club) Embrace and expecting a roaring party, we were a little disappointed when still able to speak to each other without screaming at each other. It took us a couple of minutes to realise we'd entered a silent party.

Definition #9: silent party: party where guests wear headphones, no music being emitted via the speakers

We'd like to conclude today's entry with something we should have done a loooong time ago, namely immediately after our arrival:

we hereby thank all you guys who composed an entry into our superb friendship book!

We enjoyed reading your lovely messages and are very happy to always have our friends around! Thank you all a lot!

(Was wir auf einen Feenball mitnehmen würden, wissen wir allerdings immer noch nicht:-P )

It is only now that Nick realises how perfect an accessory this book is for his will-they-beat-me-up experiment. Riding around the pedestrian area, wearing a vest and holding a pink book in his hands - it's bound to attract the yobs:-D

Despite having been killed an estimated two billion times during laser tag, we are miraculously able to continue this blog. Mick didn't perform all that badly at his laser tag premiere, finishing 5th out of 9 on our team, which means he did hit quite a decent amount of the laser tag nerds running around the arena. The only thing Nick managed to hit was his shoulder - against a wall in the pitch-black arena...

Speaking of accidents, here's another one: the chair in Nick's room had been sort of wobbly from the beginning, awe-inspiringly leaning to either side. Nick's housemate Cat, however, wouldn't trust his assessment of the seat without having sat on it herself. Well...

Transition transition transition err eeerrrrrr whatever

Football. Since England's World Cup qualifying match against Ukraine won't be on free tv here, Sheffield's pubs will end up showing the match of the day, which is [wait for it] Russia playing Germany! Meaning, we'll be watching Germany playing Russia in an English pub, probably in the midst of English hooligans-become-furious-supporters-of-Russia-simply-because-they-are-playing-Germany.

Shifting from the most popular ball game in the country to one of the less popular takes us to volleyball. As there is a society for virtually everything at Sheffield Uni - including Walking Society and, yes, Chocolate Society - there is also a Volleyball Society, of which Nick has become a member. The idea of sports societies in general seems to be to make sure the ambitioned athletes don't forget about what they think really matters in life, for which purpose they organise weekly socials in bars or clubs.

One such social took place last Wednesday, involving amongst many other hilarious things the beautification of faces by means of glow paint.

No, Nick didn't want to look like that.

Yes, we do know glow paint on guys' faces is nowhere close to cool.

No, Nick was not aware at the time of his teeth being blue as well.

Yes, the paint on Adam's forehead does say "TWAT".

No, he does not look this way when he is coaching us during team practice.

Yes, volleyball socials are fun.

Remember the apparently paradoxical church banner on a picture from a previous post? "A church for people who don't go to church"? Well, here's another one: a business strategy for businessmen who don't want to succeed as businessmen.

Mick seems to be confused. He just can't seem to find the smartass idea hidden somewhere behind this offer.

And he just can't find Nick when he's looking around his room, for Nick finally brought his house hunting to a successful close: a nice house shared with two law students, Cat and Katie, who are the ideal housemates as they are laid back and like to party;-)

The room is pretty small, but then again there's not much stuff to store away, anyway.

It even has a device for airing trainers after volleyball practice:-P

With both of us having found our home for the time in Sheffield, we can now enable you to quench your long-endured thirst to bombard us with lovely old-school pieces of long-distance communication, in short: letters.

Mick

3 Mowbray St

Sheffield, S3 8EN

United Kingdom

(beware of writing anything Mick might not like - he does boxing!)

Nick

112 Crookes

Sheffield, S10 1UH

United Kingdom

(write whatever you like, Nick can't defend himself - only does table tennis and volleyball)

Seriously: don't feel pressed to write us a letter. Electronic professions of sympathy are equally welcome:-P

Today the day has come which will finally see us give Barney Stinson's favourite recreation a go: L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-LASER TAAAAG!!!

Provided Luke Skywalker doesn't pop in to make mincemeat of us by means of his laser sword, and we'll both still be alive by tonight despite the student union's beautiful laser tag motto Come along and shoot your friends!, we'll see you guys soon on this blog!;-)

After a blasting three days, we had to see Jan and Max off again. (Btw: they slept in the two unoccupied attic rooms and we also had a cosy How I Met Your Mother night up there. You name it: nobody cares anyway.) We took farewell photos, picturing both the grandiosity of their stay and the tragedy of parting:

As the picture on the right already hints at, the worst pain came down on Mick, and unforgotten shall be the very first words to leave his mouth the next morning. -

Quote of the day: Mick: "My liver hurts."

On Tuesday, we went to a huge bike fair outside our beloved Student Union. Our thirst for a bicycle, rendering us independent of the city's public transport system which continues to be a mystery to us, would finally be quenched. Had we read this blog before, we might have lowered our expectations by some grades:

Definition #5: bike fair, huge: [definition through visual representation]

And yet another award-winning Sheffield peculiarity: the world's smallest bike fair.

PLUS: they didn't even sell bikes. They only repaired them. But how, we wondered, are people supposed to have their bike repaired when it's virtually impossible to obtain one?! We'll probably have to ask our next visitors from good old Germany to bring some along. "I'd like to transport these two means of transport by means of your plane but I wouldn't like to pay an extra fee for them." We're sure the generous Ryanair personnel will understand and not object:-P

We've started checking out some of the sports and activities being offered here, namely boxing (Mick) and table tennis as well as volleyball (Nick). We also plan to have a go at badminton once the rush of freshers has settled down.

Additionally, Nick rather spontaneously and just-for-fun-ish went to yesterday's audition for the uni's musical group's upcoming piece, "Footloose". Having sucked sooo bad at the dancing/choreo part, it must have been singing or acting that made them call Nick later last night and give him a part in the piece.

Insight #4: Britain is an ideal place to holiday in autumn.

Clarification: Since our arrival, the total amount of rain descended on Sheffield adds up to an estimated two tea cups. If at all.

When a gentle dribble set in last night during ManUnited's defeating Wolfsburg, it was announced by our British neighbours at table that this was the end of sunshine and the beginning of a very wet hardship (any "Casablanca" fans around?;-)). This morning, however, the British sun imperturbably continues to shine onto our transitory home, facilitating photos like the following one

and having us ask ourselves if we maybe got on the wrong plane and ended up in an old British colony somewhere in the South Seas.