I made it!  After a 9 hour flight, followed by a scheduled 3 hour layover in London, followed by an unscheduled 3 hour layover in London due to the British Airways plane that had to turn around because it was on fire, thereby resulting in closing Heathrow, I arrived in Paris.  I considered rowing across the English Channel when I saw the replays of that plane landing in a trail of smoke.  I was so tired, however, that when we finally boarded the BA plane to Paris, I slept for most of the ride.

In Paris, I was able to carry on a limited conversation with the pleasant cab driver who took me to the hotel.  Things like “I’m from Dallas, Texas”, “What time is it?”, and “How long is this rain going to last?”  It is like winter here in Paris.  It seems that they are having an unusual cold spell here and rain to boot.  I packed for a Texas summer.  Tomorrow I get to use my phrases like, “What size is this?” and “How much?” when I go shopping for a warmer jacket.  A hint to anyone planning a Paris trip: Dress like you’re in New York.  Black is de rigueur.

My friend, Vicki, told me that one of the best ways to acclimate to the language and learn faster is to eat alone at some cafe or bistro and listen to the conversations of those nearby.  She said it would give me a chance to sort out words and phrases. So, after I checked in, I traipsed off to the nearest cafe down the street from the hotel.  I requested ‘une table pour un’, and proceeded to sit and listen.  I learned so much.   Seated near a table of two couples, I listened intently as they talked about their day.  I’m not sure how much it helped my French, but I did learn that they were in the city for a few days, going to Normandy for a day, traveling down to Provence at the end of the week, and then returning home to Florida at the end of next week.  Their heavy New Jersey accents made it difficult to understand every word, but that’s the gist of the conversation.

The most difficult language to understand is not French.  I’m convinced that the most difficult language to understand is Scottish Gallic.  This was proven today on the bus ride from the plane to the terminal at Heathrow.  An enormous man–who reminded me of the stereotypical plumber when he bent over to stash his luggage under his seat and flashed a visual that I may never forget–this man got on his cell phone and struck up a conversation with maybe the only one or two other people in the world who could understand him.  I know some of the words were English, but beyond Hello, I couldn’t tell you many other English words I understood.  When he said a recognizable word in English, his accent was so thick it was like his tongue was coated with Elmer’s glue.  After listening to him for the entire ride, I was thankful to be heading to a French-speaking country.

For the most part, the French are patient with people who attempt to speak their language.  Encouraging, too.  The people I’ve spoken to in my halting sentences have been helpful and not at all condescending.  So far, so good.

Tomorrow I’m off to explore, do some shopping, and prepare to head down to Provence on Sunday.

A bientôt!