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A Fox in Leeds

My first full day in Leeds was spent on the unique and exciting activity of sleeping very late, then trying to scrape up cheap lodgings in London. Still working on that. I did get out in the afternoon, and basically walked back to downtown. Saw old buildings, threaded through an area of densely criss-crossing shopping arcades, bought truffles -- some boozy by my intention, the rest turning out to be boozy too, I thought I was just getting a box of truffles -- ran into some gay bars, ate a not-as-fancy-as-it-tried-to-be hot dog in the old Corn Exchange (which is a neat building), eventually walked part of the way back. Waited for a bus, but the sign in the stop said "3 minutes... 1 minute... due now... 3 minutes... due now... 34 minutes..." without anything coming. So I kept on walking. Eventually it caught up with me, and I got on, though I might have been faster walking. Legs getting tired, though.

Oh right, the museum. Around 16:30 I ran into the Henry Moore Institute and Leeds Art Gallery, and went into the latter. Partly for public toilet, but there was some neat art inside too. Small eclectic collection, from modern weird sculpture to a room of impressive 18th-19th century paintings, including a big Nordic landscape surrounded by smaller British landscapes, nice contrast. What I infer is the main Leeds library was just through an open door, too.

Dewey Decimal seems to be the favored system in the Isles.

I compared the street I'm on to 10th. It's also like Kirkwood -- or maybe 10th at night, too -- in being full of college kids going to bars or parties or parties at bars. A group of devil girls, a group in mostly green like St. Patrick's Day only it's September, a group with animal makeup (like cat whiskers), and lots of short skirts and bare arm dresses which would look sexier if I didn't keep thinking about how cold it is.

On the walk up to where I'm staying, which is up a longish path as the building is quite recessed from the road, my path was crossed by what I'm pretty sure was a fox. At least, more like a fox than any other creature I could think of. It turned and watched me from the grass, then bushes; I wanted a photo but it was camera shy. Or object in human hands shy.

Building -- Hinsley Hall -- isn't that old; 1867 training center for Methodist ministers, known as Wesley College. I guess that's why it looks a bit churchy.

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Phoenix
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Damien Sullivan
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