I speak Franglais?
I like it that I grew up in a multi-lingual environment, and that I have opportunity to live abroad and experience new languages in the process. At present, I use either English or French in my daily conversations and they are slowly mergin to take life on its own. Slightly alarmingly for me is to find a plateau in my grasp of French and at the same time a regression in my use of English…
Lately, I find myself saying things like “his father” and “her mother” despite referring to the parents of a same friend (who is not both male and female at the same time, I assure you), asking a colleague if she has “taken her tickets” for a conference trip, and I “make (someone) a present” even if it’s store-bought and directly gift-wrapped (lovingly chosen, of course).
In another word, I’m beginning to literally translate from French to English (“son père”, “sa mère”, “prendre les billets”, “faire un cadeau”), and therefore committing the very same errors that I used to correct my Francophone friends from making! I know this is not strictly Franglais in the traditional sense – I don’t often speak in either one language then pepper it with words from the other – but what else would you call it? Confused foreign-speaker?
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Moving around Paris and in Ile-de-France has just been made easier. Hands up anyone who uses Velib’ and are owners of Android phones. Hands up too anyone who has limited zone Navigo passes. Here’s what happened this week…
Biking in Paris
Finally an official Velib’ app for Android!
Thousands of iPhone users have been enjoying the privilege since May 2010, in tracking where one can find or park Velib’ quickly while being out and about the city. Believe it or not, despite Androids being the second largest market share after iOSs, and in recent months have truly trounced Apple’s iOS’s shipments (68% of Android smartphones vs 17% of iPhones in Q2 of 2012), apps for Nokia OVI and Window Phones were developed ahead of Androids. I’m not sure what’s the logic in that… Surely the aim would be to try to capture the most users possible?
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I am bemused each time I read an article exclaiming that Mont St Michel is a short day trip away from Paris, and this includes Rick Steves’ claim of it being an easy day trip. Maybe, if you are a staunch believer of around-every-country-in-Europe-in-30-days kind of tourism…?
Let’s established a couple of basic things here. Given 24 hours in a day, and assuming one gets a good 8-hours sleep, we’re left with 16 hours for all activities in a day. If you need an hour or so to get ready in the morning – shower, personal grooming, breakfast (and coffee!) – now we’re down to 15 hours available for the day to play tourist etc.
The Mont St Michel is a beautiful site and I highly recommend it to anyone who’s pondering whether to go or not. Situated at the boundary between Normandy and Brittany, it was assigned Unesco World Heritage Site all the way back in 1979 (before I was even born!) and attracts reasonable number of visitors each year. It is also, however, some 360km away from Paris. Not exactly the next town over.
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On the eve before our departure for Reykjavík, I had the good fortune to across an article that talked about the emergence of Nordic cuisine, led by René Redzepi of Noma in Copenhagen. As I read through the article, my attention was steered immediately to the mention of DILL Restaurant, conveniently located in the city where I’d be visiting right the next day. I immediately sent an email to them, hoping to snare a table for LT and me with such short notice. We struck gold – they booked us in for Saturday night, hurrah!
Arriving back from the Golden Circle Tour, we hastily made ourselves presentable and requested the front desk for a taxi to drive us over. We were not far from the restaurant, but after the wet and windy day, we needed more comfort than ever. At least the rain seemed to have abated. I wasn’t sure my coat would be happy to get another dose of soaking!
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I should probably also add to the title of the post: on a very wet and windy day.
Our time in Reykjavík was limited. The deal for return flights and 3 nights hotel stay translated to only 2.5 days for activities – a fact not communicated to us until weeks after we’ve paid for this little promo. Had we known, we would have rethink the trip, and likely did it quite differently. No time for to cry over spilled milk here. We would just make do the best we can, and that included taking organised excursions so we at least get a taste of what Iceland is like.
We ought to be smart enough to judge the weather forecast before we booked onto a tour, but as the 2 full days that we had were both predicted to have a bunch of mixed conditions, our brains short-circuited and we failed to notice that one day would be warmer than the other (thus higher probability of being a nicer day). We picked the wrong one to take in some of the best sites outside of the Icelandic capital.
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When it comes to the monetary aspect, Iceland is not for the faint-hearted. Food in particular don’t come cheap. Bearing that in mind, LT and I thought, why not splurge a little? Instead of paying dearly for supposed budget eats, we would indulge in higher-end dining that would actually be comparable in price to that in Paris. This way, we won’t feel like we’ve paid too much for what we can get cheaper in Paris; instead, we will get fine dining at the “regular” price. Another plus point – we will experience Icelandic dining at the top level.
We had our first evening meal at Grillið Restaurant, situated on the 8th floor of our hotel. As we were there very early, the place was practically empty and we scored a table next to the windows, affording us some impressive panoramic view despite the falling rain and setting fogs. Chef milled about in the kitchen that can be openly observed via see-through glass panelling. I find the interior decor a little tacky though, featuring the signs of the zodiac.
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A few months back, I saw a travel deal to Reykjavík that was all too tempting. I managed to wrangle my friend LT to travel together with me, and since hotel was already part of the deal, suffice to say we didn’t do too much pre-trip research. Two days before departure, I had a quick root-around the cyberspace and did a couple of things: book our airport transfer and made a reservation at Dill Restaurant.
We left Paris for our long weekend break on a cloudy afternoon (oh it was bright above the clouds, of course), and were greeted with an even cloudier sky on arrival in Keflavík International Airport. I mentally went through my wardrobe option in my backpack and prayed I have not under-prepared for the trip. It was the end of April and I was banking on early spring weather (even I wasn’t delusional enough to think we’d get early summer weather), so I was probably alright. At worse, I’d just do some shopping.
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I have noticed, in the period that daylight savings is in operation, big bright banners start to crop up just about everywhere. Brocante! Vide grenier! Salons d’antiquaires! (Garage sale! Empty the basket! Antique salon!)
Held usually over a weekend at a specific location, these pop up markets have some pretty interesting things to sell. However, because I am just that wee bit lazy, I haven’t specifically went to one for the purpose of browsing. Besides, I am not a natural shopper – I wouldn’t know if I hit a bargain or have overpaid for something that used to belong to someone else.
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Winter get-together chez Chloé invariably means there would be at least one raclette session, if not another couple of sessions of aligot and mont d’or too. These cheese-filled events are relatively easy to organise, feed a good crowd, and everyone’s always content after that.
What’s fun is that Chloé has a good old fashion raclette apparatus, unlike the more modern contraption/grill that is used to heat up sliced cheese inside some small pans. You don’t get to racler properly with the grill apparatus! (And yes, she even has the specific knives to racler the cheese.)
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Writing a personal blog should be easy, right? After all, these are my experiences that I’m trying to put to pages. However, every so often, I find myself starting little snippets and then paused, not entirely sure how to finish them up without putting everyone to sleep, and all the while thinking “why would anybody think they are interesting?”.
The following is the equivalent of the text on type-written-but-crumpled-on-the-floor pages. Maybe I will revisit them one day, but it’s a lot likely that I won’t. At least I can now get rid of the random text documents – we shall be exploring the theme of “thing I don’t have since moving to Paris” today – sitting in my draft folder. ;)
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