I'm exhausted, I spent a large part of yesterday making madeleines for the Moto-fete and set off at, what can only be described, as sparrow-fart this morning.
I've spent all day hoping no one asked me anything more taxing than "Un verre de vin Rouge" and instead got embroiled in a long and some what convaluted conversation with a 6ft 7 Gendarme whose name for reasons which escaped me, is, Jean-Jean.
The high point of the day though, at the extremely matcho bike-fair, was watching the same said policeman, complete with firearm, persuade the owner of a ridicuolusly small Papillon dog, to pose it on the petrol tank of his enormous Police bike, so he could take a photo of it!
Its astonishing to me now how much I took being able to understand and converse without concentrating for granted... roll on that stage in French, which is sadly still a long way off.
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