Parlez-vous francais?

This is the other pair from cruise stopover in Positano, Italy. REAL souvenir shoes. Sooo soft. Note to self: Do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT need another pair of PINK shoes now.

Today I started French classes. I just can´t take another vacation in France without knowing what is going on around me. When I was young, the school councelor told us that people that are good with numbers should choose German as their third language - because we would end up doing lots of business with German people. They were partly right, but these Germans actually speak English quite well. What these teachers do NOT tell you is that if you are good with numbers you might actually make enough money to buy a vineyard and MOVE to France when you retire. And - who wants to go to GERMANY on vacation? Well, it was actually useful to speak a bit of German on the after-ski in St. Anton last winter, but - hey - the bartenders spoke mostly SWEDISH anyway. And the word "Jägermeister" is pretty self-explanatory.

So - after traveling to various french-speaking countries for years - I still struggle with my restaurant orders. I mean - I know the basics. But the French are known for their complicated cooking. You understand what one ingredient is, and you guess you have it all figured out, and then the main ingredient is actually something really, really strange. I once ordered a quail in Corsica. I only understood the part on the menu about the vegetables. I almost fainted when I was served a piece of meat that looked like a small animal!!! Eeeek! You should have seen the thighs on this creature. It could have been a huge toad for all I know (it was not). Then there was what I refer to as the "cohonas"-incident last summer. It said carpaccio on the menu. I guess that somewhere they managed to hide the message that this was actually verrryyyy thinly sliced animal (?) testicles. Some slices even had hairs left on them. Are you starting to see my point?

Another rather embarrassing thing - is the fact that I buy these French designer things that I do not even know how to pronounce. Is the S in Hermes silent or not? How about the S in Louis? Gaaah. I just have to get this right. I know that I grew up in the country-side, but that does not mean that I need to sound like a bloody peasant, does it?

It feels a bit strange though. Now I am one of these middle-aged people starting a self-realization project. That, in itself, is a bit depressing. I spent three hours learning how to introduce myself in French this evening. As a bonus, I got to meet a whole new group of people. I will tell you more about them later. You have something to look forward to, I promise.