My packing for France consists of the Bayeux Tapestry and some clean knickers. Oh that'll do, we can buy everything else when we get there. After all, when in doubt the Smiths go shopping.
Mr Smith made me ring and speak, in o-level french, to a lady, by myself, on the phone, giving our arrival time and it was oh so scary. Je have forgotten all the words for everything and it was tres tricky. I hope I got it right. She was a very nice french lady. Bon. Jamais again. Why don't they just use the internet comme normal persons?
I have often found when visiting rural parts of the Continent one arrives on some festival day or other so all the shops are shut and all the restaurants are full. It's bound to be the Fete de Beteraves (Beetroot Festival) or something so I am going to take the precaution of stopping at a Heepermarshay on the way. I like Carrefours best but Monsieur Smith prefers E Leclerk. I always get carried away in french supermarkets and buy ridiculous things like pretty china and pencils with things written on them in french like "crayon rouge". I also like things you never see in Sainsburys like fresh ripe apricots, prunes by the kilo and star anise sold loose. However, I don't like horse or frog and I don't want a pet lobster.
I now have to take the dog to his five star hotel for his holiday followed by a million tasks before packing the tea bags. Oh why can't we just stay here and pretend we went to France. I'm not sure about holidays; they can quickly become experiences of doing it all the same, somewhere else, in another language, with inadequate equipment and funny money. I want to go home already and we haven't even left yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment