'Do you have a favourite part of all this?' she asked. 'All what?' I said. 'This work'. Favourite part? There was little at this point that didn't make me want to run with my stones straight back into the river. I shook my head. 'You first'. She looked surprised, as if she hadn't expected the question to come back at her. She narrowed her grey eyes. 'It's that moment about two months in, when you think you've finally got a handle on the place. Suddenly it feels within your grasp. It's a delusion - you've only been there eight weeks - and it's followed by the complete despair of ever understanding anything. But at that moment the place feels entirely yours. It's the briefest, purest euphoria.'