Category Archives: French Connection

Stupid. Full Stop.

This image has not been tampered with.

There is a little thing in France that every French person knows and accepts but which blows the mind of every foreigner here, should they stay long enough to discover it. It is something which has perplexed me unfailingly since the first time I sat down at a French computer.

As I started to type I noticed that the words were coming out rather unspellingly. I marvelled briefly at the possibility that Continue reading


Doggy Bag

Thank you to the lovely lady who let a complete stranger (me) photograph her dog repeatedly in the street.

When I first came to France eight years ago, there were many things which confused and alarmed me, but nothing so much as an official sticker I read on the window of the bus one day.

It said:

“Un animal domestique? Oui! S’il est petit et dans un sac.”

Which, translated, is basically,

“Want to bring your pet on the bus? Sure! As long as he’s small and in a bag.”

WTF?!

What sort of bag? A plastic one? A holdall? Do I zip it up? What does ‘small’ mean? Could one really consider putting Rover in a rucksack? Continue reading


Milky Way

Now, being an English person living in France, I am used to hearing the opinion that every culinary output from the British Isles is an abominable, slap-dash mish-mash of incompetently scrambled together leftovers of both sweet and savoury sort.

So imagine my delight when one day a student uttered the most welcome words I had ever heard a Frenchy bestow upon an edible item from England. Continue reading


Metro Matters

I even love the Metro sign. This is my nearest station in the 5th arrondissement of Paris. Isn't it pretty?

I mentioned my love for the glorious Paris Metro while talking with a French man the other day. He simply couldn’t comprehend it. He made that face reserved for food you don’t like, and informed me that the Metro smelled. “It smells”, he said but his face said, “Urgh, you like something that smells”. It was difficult to make a comeback after that. He had made me feel like a beastly outcast who rolls around in toenails and licks cat hair off the floor (god, it’s not like I said I like the RER).

It was too late to change his mind about me, but I could still save face for the Metro. Ah, the Metro: practical, stylish and affordable, an example in efficiency and a veritable free, daily theatre, where every aspect of life is recreated underground and for all to see.

Genuine scenes of animal interaction are silently played out as privileged positions are contended and personal space is defended. Plus real, live entertainment of all kinds can surprise you at any moment. Sometimes people actually join in; either with the performer and his music (I’ve seen whole carriages come to life (granted, they are usually tourists, but they’re real people too!)) or with fellow passengers enjoying a good old collective tut because it’s repetitive or unwanted or simply because they’ve had a long day and can’t I just go home without this racket lordy, lordy? It’s thoroughly entertaining. Continue reading


Shock as Indicator Use Rockets

Clignotant

Despite protests, another radical driver employs his indicator today in Paris

A new record was broken last Friday when a Parisian used his directional indicator to signal to other road users his intention to turn. The incredible feat took place during a 27-minute journey between the busy area of République in the centre of Paris and the 17th arrondissement in the north-west. The record was smashed thanks to a triple execution of the manoeuvre on three separate occasions, all of which are officially counted even though two were not made in conjunction with a turn in the corresponding direction. Continue reading