Our last day in France; and continental Europe for that matter. We’re feeling a bit sad, like we’re leaving home again.
After spending most of the last seven months in Europe, and all of them out of English-speaking countries, we’re looking forward with interest to going to the UK. But we’ve become very used to being in Europe and will miss so much. A few days ago Jennifer and I were watching TV program we’d brought with us from Australia. The hero jumped into a car and drove away. Jennifer and I both reacted the same way – he was driving on the wrong side of the road. We’re acclimatised.
Even mundane things take on an exotic cast in a foreign language, and we’ll certainly miss that. In France, especially, there’s such a sense of achievement in communicating effectively in another language. But then there’re some thing that are just so much easier in your own language. I phoned Scotland today to book a travel clinic for our yellow-fever injections; and dealing with some complexity in booking was just so simple when I could talk fluently.
Of course the other thing we’re going to miss is the food. The boulangerie, the epicerie, the lovely little restaurants. Marta treated us all to a lunch today in the local hotel. It’s a two-star place but provided a menu and quality that would be hard to find back home. We’re not anticipating finding anything similar in England.
But we’ll see. On to new adventures.