The Portmanteau really try to avoid spending useless time regretting things that can’t be changed but we make an exception for our decision not to learn French in secondary school. Our twelve-year-old selves really messed up when we ticked the German and Spanish box on the subject options form. At least it helped contribute to the fact that we were in each other’s class almost every single year for the first 14 years of our education (senior infants being the only exception), but it’s still our number one regret. Evening classes undertaken in the last couple of years have proved a little fruitless, mainly because the really slow granddads-learning-it-in-preparation-for-their-holiday-to-Britanny have held us back. And we may have missed a class or two….. Nevertheless, we still like to try out our bad French and got the perfect opportunity when we decamped to Paris last weekend. People always responded in English so I don’t think we were fooling anybody but at least we made the effort.
Shopping was curtailed somewhat due to the fact that all my money was stolen by a gang of twelve year old girls and it took the best part of Saturday afternoon to fill in the Victime statements and attempt to pick out the perpetrators in an incredibly badly-organised identity parade. We did manage to fit in some window shopping, exhibitions and macaroon-eating so it wasn’t all bad. And the French policemen were kinda hot.
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