The streets stir with pending activity. Roving eyes pick the choicest spots to put up posters, while other inquisitive ones peek curiously at the events they display. Tired vendors with money bags - empty, but hopeful - mark out their stalls. Coffee shops churn out rich aromas, tempting passers-by out of the crisp cold. The harsh June breeze whips through the streets and up to the matriarchal Rhodes. At the aged and unassuming Adamson House, the Future Journalists arrive and settle in.
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