I went to bed in some dormatories, and woke up this morning in the mountains.

Over the past three days, the only thing I did by myself was brush my teeth. A stark change for someone who spends their waking life in isolation, thinking about abstract issues. Instead, I was in a mirror-filled city, full of mirrors. Everywhere I turned, people were just like me, talking to me. We knew the same philosophical anecdotes, and had our eye on the whole. Some were more swayed by logistical pressures than others, but most everyone had a genuine, palpable love for abstract discourse. No one, luckily, took themselves too seriously.

We went out in the evenings and talked about foreign affairs, moustaches and short skirts.

At the end of it all, I felt guilty. The people responsible for getting these international ringers to their school to speak were unfairly philosophically impoverished. With only 10 philosophy classes offered each year, and a disappointing caliber of students, they had no exposure to some of the most significant ideas in our discipline. I felt unfairly privileged to have the ken that I do.

In the end, I learned so much.

Certain thinkers are magnetised to me.
Americans argue in different ways than we do.
Some of the best, open-minded thinkers come from public schools.
Everyone is talking about the same thing.

I also learned that I am a Cartesian dualist. Mind and body: two different things.