|Me, Happy Me|
|Me, Happy Me|
There is a French song I grew up listening to: it is called ‘Epaule Tatoo’ ( which means shoulder tattoo) and basically, it is about how a guy is mesmerised, in a club, by a woman with a blue tat on her shoulder. You can listen to it here:
In my resort and more generally in Dubai, there is a specific etiquette, and I am slowly getting to grips with it. I still have so much to learn…but here is what I found out so far. Feel free to add to the list:
It has been a pretty full-on year. Come to think of it, it has been a pretty full-on decade. Of course on the paper I am British now, but every morning I flick through the French press. I am probably better informed than when I was living in Paris. You can take the girl out of France, but not France out of the girl, right? We settled down in London, bought a house, renovated it, had a baby, struggled with the British educative system, set up a business, and so on, and so forth. Oh, and as you may know I write a blog too…
In France, in Great Britain or anywhere else, there is nothing worse than a bad Monday morning. Mine was no exception.
The day had started so well. I had reached City airport on time to catch my flight to Toulon. I had cleared security reasonably fast despite the fact that it was a busy day. The flight was full of pale English men and women in desperate need of some some sun. I was of course no exception: my own daughter called me Snow White the other day. So much for living in London.
It is this time of the year. Some mums have it all planned out. Well, I haven’t. This means that I am running around like a headless chicken. As an example, my little one insisted on getting a bikini. What can I say? She must be British. When I was her age (she is 9), I was never, ever wearing the top half of a bikini. To be frank, on French beaches, nobody was wearing a bra. Not even adult women. But she absolutely wanted one. I am ashamed to say that I gave in. I feel slightly cheated because she has absolutely nothing to cover, but hey, I have to go with the flow.
Today is Bastille day, aka French National day. Obviously everybody has to work this side of the Channel, but that’s not the case in France. In my home country there was a huge military parade on the Champs Elysees, and everybody was watching it, just like any other 14th of July. If I were in France, I would probably be at the village ball by now, dancing the night away. I always thought that the 14th of July was the real start of the summer holidays. Ah, memories…