Sunday, July 15, 2007


The other day, my daughter looked at me very seriously over the dinner table.

"Daddy," she said, "We have to move house."

"Why's that sweety-pie?" I asked.

"Because the video's broken".


Fairly often, I fly down to the town of Pau in the south of France on business.

The stewards/stewardesses on the flight serve a drink and a snack which is always either a little packet of biscuits referred to as 'sucré' (sweet) or a little packet of strangely flavoured snacks referred to as 'salé' (salty).

They come down the aisle handing out drinks and then ask: 'sucré ou salé?'

I have long since understood and perfected my responses. No more am I asked grinningly: "Une bier, monsieur? Une bier?"

But on the flight the other day, a tragic foreigner sat next to me who asked for a glass of lemonade. The french say 'limonade'. The word 'lemonade' looks similar, but apparently sounds completely different to French ears.

Realising the man spoke English, the steward switched seamlessly into queen's english: "You would like lemon, monsieur? No, we have no lemon."

"And to eat. Would you like sweaty or salty?"

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