Parlez Vous Franglais?

I'll just finish up telling you about our short break in France by showing some of the fabulous places we stayed at. For not much more than the price of a Travelodge room in England, we had sumptuous bed and breakfast accommodation here ... in this 16th Century chateau, where the owners just couldn't do enough for us.

And later, here in this little place, where we had the whole end of the building to ourselves.

But of course when you are taking advantage of the French owners' hospitality, it is imperative that you try to speak to them in French.
I can understand quite a lot of French and speak it reasonably well. However, I do take a few moments to gather my thoughts (and vocab!) before just blurting out any old rubbish.

Not so Monsieur Potterjotter. Non! He last spoke French at school back in 1918 (or thereabouts) when he did French 'O' Level, but still insists on having a go.

So the proprietor asks if we speak French. Hubby replies within a nanosecond (in his own specially-invented-French-dialect which no-one else on the planet understands) that he studied French a long time ago at school.
So the French chap replies (in proper French that I understand): Ah, so you haven't spoken French since you were a child ('enfant').

Hubby hears the word 'enfant' and replies in his pigeon French: Yes, we have one girl and two boys.

The French chap looks bewildered and I look for a hole in the ground to open up so that I can jump in and hide!

Hubby had many such 'conversations' with them - bless 'im!

That little dog lived at the fancy mansion above. I got the impression he was deaf, dumb and blind and about 100 years old, and unfortunately he was the same colour as the gravel driveway we drove in on, so that the Hubby, (also 100 years old) did not see the 'petit chien' and nearly ran him down. Not a great start to our stay at that place!

Just love all the shutters in France - they really add something to a place.

Parlez Vous Francais?