Oh, Esther, how that reminds me of one of my favourite photographs...


http://www.centrepompidou.fr/cpv/res...8b23464cb16370

(Hommages Respectueux by Robert Doisneau)

There's something attractively high-flown & French about that, & once upon a time I would use it to close letters enquiring about holiday accommodation. Nowadays e-mails each way generally end 'cordialement'. Which I also like.

They done taught you wrong, Esther! 'Sentiments' is masculine, so it should be 'distingués'. A feminine alternative is 'salutations les plus distinguées'.

Bazza, there is also 'amicalement' when writing to friends. 'Cordialement' is good, but can cover a wide range of meanings, including (when writing, for instance, to complain about a defective purchase) 'fuck off'.

Good heavens, Ann - Dominique Strauss-Kahn does get around a bit, doesn't he?

Brian, no they didn't teach me wrong, I remembered wrong.

I shall have to edit down to 16 lines. Probably drop L5, or rework last 3?
Oh, I know a poem's not asked for, but anyway...

je ne suis pretentieux, moi-
je ne suis trop la-di-dah-
je suis un des pommes de terres,
savoir faire, un gen d’affaires,
yeux ciel-bleux et poiles d’oranges
suite fabrique de Ralph Lauren
chic et froid dans ma Citron
roulant langue de promenade-
jalouse gens se sens malade!
‘carp y gem’, n’attende plus tard.
voila ma sportif voiture;
voici mi en suite, bien sur,
juste complet et avant-garde:
‘volksprang deutsch technik’, regarde!
je ne suis pretentieux, moi!
je le dirai encre en bois-
je ne suis pretentieux, fah!

I wonder if that’s a Citron Pressé, Graham? Don’t know if the following is ‘liberally sprinkled’ enough, but toujours le je ne sais quoi and Fingerspitzengefühlkeit.

Dear Clare,

How nice to hear from you for the first time since schooldays. No, I never received my call-up papers, or appel sous les draps, as the French would say and so know nothing of the Stert und Drank or Blöd und Eis of the military life for your book. Not to worry, I think it would have been just demiasado of a nightmare or peccadillo in my case. It’s a time of odium cum dignitatem at the tranquil back of beyond, or el quinto pito, for me these days. Chacun à son goo and all that.
To return à nos croûtons, yes, we can meet on Thursday in the buffet at Waterloo, which is relatively sine prole, as you suggest. Ah, what poetry Charles Hugo made of that name!
Waterloo! Waterloo! Waterloo! morne gare!
Où le spectre en plein jour raccroche le passant . . .

Hasta huevos! Sam

I'm finding it hard to find anything to sprinkle with, except the remark made by a friend who prides himself on his French: "The trouble with driving in Paris is all the confitures de trafic."

That's a beauty, Brian!

(For this one, I'd better change my name to "Losesome". (No one ever called me winsome.)


Just a quick note from France. In the words of Edward Heath, “ayant un merveilleux temps!” It’s wonderful how easily O-level French comes back to me.

Driving in Paris is a nightmare - it’s an endless confiture de trafic. Apparently the Mayor of Paris is a bit of a Nancy, which is presumably why it’s called “Gai Paris”.

At the restaurant yesterday, I wanted to call the waiter, and remembered the word “Garcon”. But it was a waitress, so I used the feminine form “Garce!” I still don’t understand why the manager threw me out.

I’m off to the South of France tomorrow - I’m looking forward to wearing my snazzy new tronc de bain. And of course, the French kiss each other all the time. Apparently, to get a friendly kiss from one of those topless beauties at Saint-Tropez, all you have to say is “Bonjour, mademoiselle, je voudrais vous baiser.”