When I was in France I was horrible at speaking the language. In fact, one of the main reasons I drank so much beer in that country, besides the obvious, was because the word "beer" was much easier for me to pronounce than the word "water." Sure, I could have struggled to pronounce it, but I was very timid ordering in strictly French establishments, and therefore only used words that I was completely comfortable with.
I would go on long bike rides, every day, and then stop at local cafés to rehydrate, always with a tall glass of cold beer.
What a great month.
From my livejournal:
ReplyDeleteI miss...
Jul. 8th, 2005 | 07:40 pm
mood: sad
music: sleater-kinney, Oh!
swimming in the meditarranean sea, banane-chocolat crêpes, biking down Avenue Gambetta towards Pizza Tony for lunch and eating a three euro panini, my roommate Sean waking me up at eight in the morning for ELFCA, rushing to the dinner table outside to spread Nutella on bagettes and slurping Smacks Trésor, class ONZE (we won that class), Hettie Jones, le fromage, sipping vin rouge at the Guillime Tell, exchanging glances with Sean at the dinner table while sipping vin rosé and listening to our ex-hippie french father tell us of his adventures overseas, kareoke at the Sun Rock Café, canoeing through the Gorges du Verdon, walking through tiny alleyways in St. Paul de Vance, smoking Gauloises cigarettes even though FUMER TUE, downing Kanterbrau beers while Sedrich the bartender bopped his head to rap music at the FIAP, attempting to speak french, our crazy forty-something year old German friend and classmate Andreas and our impressions of him (Yah this I know), le Museé d'Orsay, le Lourve, Montmarte, le quartier latin, les Halles, the meaty/hunky strippers rubbing their cocks through towels on the bar at the hottest spot in Paris: the Banana Café, staring at the people on the metro, Shakespeare & Co., the three guys from Dublin especially Liam and Jeff who called me a legend which I'll never forget for the rest of my life, my new Purchase friends, Morgan, Marisa, Liza, Brady and her husband, Sam and Maya, etc.
I don't miss mosquito bites.
I never thought I'd miss France as much as I do. I must return. I must live in Paris. Hemingway said, "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast."