Is it a noodle or is it a frite ?
A little light language exchange
A Frenchman once politely explained to me that "You English put the words in the wrong order", until I corrected that "No" in fact it was the French who occasionally got their word sequence wrong...
In the realm of food and toys however, it appears you either know or you don't know.
When is a noodle a frite? When its destiny is sea-play, not gastronomy!
As well as enjoying the gentle morning light and the peaceful ambience as fellow early-dippers all honoured the unspoken Code of Calm, I was struck by the obvious commitment to various fitness routines. Purposeful water walks and disciplined swims interspersed small groups of friends, waist-high in the water quietly chatting. My eyes were drawn, however, to a couple of people enjoying the benefit of those long, polystyrene floatation aids. Lounging lazily, on brightly coloured over-sized strings, as a human-scale laundry line; Zenlike bliss personified.
Once an idea takes lodging in my brain, it doesn't tend to shift until acted upon.
A few distracted days later, I took myself to the "Font of all things necessary, and/or useless"; that gaily coloured shop on the skirt of Carrefour, just over from the petrol station. Unfortunately, I hadn't checked in with the language-skills portion of my brain before venturing through the doors. I was confident I would spot the necessary long thin floatation beauties without any trouble. "Mais non!" they were not where I expected they should be. Perhaps because I've never actively taken part in any form of shop-layout employment? As a consumer, I thought I could simply apply my own logic ~
Spotting a friendly-looking staff member, I enquired "Est-ce vous avez des noodles, s'il vous plaît", only to be met with blank eyes and a colloquial answer designed to confuse. I was confused. She was confused. Her keen-to-be-helpful colleague was confused, as I attempted a poor, jumbled explanation of words and mime. Surely everyone was buying them at this time of year?
A few weeks ago I took advantage of having a little free time from serving breakfasts at Rue Galilée B&B, and joined a good friend for an early morning dip in the calm seas of Mèze's beautiful little bay. Our neighbouring town has the disadvantage of the busy coast road cutting through its centre, but if you follow your nose towards the sea you won't be disappointed. As an adopted "Marseillanaise" I think our Port is more pretty and perfect, of course, but I am willing to concede that Mèze has her own points of interest and beauty. And her two sheltered bays of fine sand opening directly onto the Mediterranean are definitely strong points in her favour.
With the many and varied "faux Amis" causing confusion and occasional merriment between our two languages, I want to add another gem to the summertime mix.
Thankfully, a customer who was there for some serious shopping, judging by her stern demeanour, deigned to impart a few words of wisdom without breaking her stride towards her intended purchase. "Ell veut une frite" she said.
"Frites"? Chips? Surely she was wrong? Surely the whole world knows them as "Noodles". But no. "L'aide à la flottabilité pour la natation" is indeed called a Frite not a Noodle in these parts! "Et Voilà!" there was a boxful of those brightly coloured beauties, just a few paces behind us. Hurrah!
Playtime at La Plage takes on another dimension, especially when the sea has a few rippling waves to aid random bobbing!
