Forget about the to-do list, today I’m on the road. I’m in Switzerland, en route back to the UK for Christmas.
I like speaking French in Switzerland. Everyone I hear seems to have a funny accent, so I’m much less self-conscious about my own. I’m sure the man behind me in the queue at the coffee shop was speaking French, but I have only the vaguest idea what he was saying. The French kids behind me in the queue to buy a train ticket were talking about septante. It’s one of the most frequently found differences between French as it is spoken in France and Swiss or Belgian French. It means seventy, and the French French equivalent is soixante-dix.
That was just the beginning 🙂 As the man in the ticket office with the lovely singing accent sold me my train ticket he told me that for the outward journey all I had to do was show the ticket. However, for the return journey I had to obliterer it. He must have seen the surprise on my face at being asked to tear up the ticket into tiny pieces and burn it all, as he added… ‘composter en France‘.
- A month to go and yet I can’t speak French… (thefonduefiles.wordpress.com)