Today the boys and I had dinner with Diane, an Irish friend, the one we will forevermore be grateful to as she owns the flat we are staying in, without which we probably wouldn't be here.  

Diane is hosting a 9yo French girl for a few days.  As a result, dinner was in French.  Now, I know the boys speak French every day at school, and I know they are pretty comfortable.  But sheesh!  Every time Diane or the little girl asked a question, either one or both of the boys piped up an answer.  "Tu aimes le chocolat?" asked the little girl - to me.  "Ouiay" answered the boys.  "Tu veux un peu de salade?" asked Diane - to me.  "Oui, je veux bien," answered James.  "Tu as l'air fatigué," said Diane, concerned about my sleepy eyes.  "Mais non, pas moi," answered Scott, sliding around the room as if it were a skating rink.  I might've just as well been asleep, for all the conversation I got in.

This French learning business obviously has its drawbacks.  

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We've been out and about this weekend, our last weekend in France, trying to do some of the things we haven't managed to fit in yet.  Mini golf by the lake, a game of tennis, a last meal out, a gondola ride up to the top of the mountain.  it was nice to relax with the boys, while still trying to take in as much as possible.  It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful it is here.  But it was the opposite of breathtaking:  I actually felt like I was trying to breathe it all in and then hold my breath, to keep it all in!  I don't think I could ever get enough of these mountains.

The boys were just boys, and I enjoyed all the little exchanges they had with people in French that made it feel worthwhile:  saying "merci" when the waitress asked for the "mot magique", and when people asked them questions in French they not only knew what was aksed but also knew when to say "oui" and when to say "si".  They asked politely for a frisbee that had gone into someone's garden.  It was all very humdrum and magical at the same time.  

One more week to breathe it all in.    

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The debate rages amongst many British expats here:  which education system is better, the British or the French one?  You could compare at various levels:  later start in reading in France, more focus on math problem solving skills in Britain, the Bac vs the "A" level.  

Each system certainly has its advantages and disadvantages, and I'm hardly one to be able to properly compare given only 6 months' experience in France.  However, I think the debate misses the point, to a certain extent. As far as I can tell, about halfway though a secondary school education, learning to write properly becomes paramount.   And even in Western languages, where the written language is somewhat related to the spoken one (unlike Mandarin, for instance), the difference in how you write vs how you speak is quite strong.  

So in effect, you actually need that time in secondary school to learn how to write fluently in the language you are studying.  If you attend a French school, therefore, you will become a fluent French writer - NOT a fluent English writer.  Parents who have any choice at all need to then consider which language would be most valuable to their child.  In my view, English would trump French every time.   Of course, if you could find a true bilingual school, where your child learns to write in both languages, fab.  

If not, you might need to move back to Old Blighty. 

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Today Scotty said to me out of the blue:  "It's a big problem, mum."

"What's a problem?" I asked.

"Everyday I have to speak some French and some English."  He said, very thoughtfully.  (He is a very thinky kind of fellow.)

"And?" I said, bemused.

"And sometimes when I'm speaking French I don't know I'm speaking French."  He frowned.

"And?"

"Well, that's a problem of course!" he said, and marched off.  Giving me, of course, a chance to smile. 

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Today when I picked up the boys from camp they were happily shooting hoops with (you guessed it) some American kids.  The boys quickly pointed out that I am American, so I asked them where they were from, meaning what state.  Instead, the older girl gave me such a typical American answer that I had to stifle a giggle:

"Well, my mom's Romanian so that makes me half-Romanian.  My dad's half Irish so I guess I'm a quarter Irish.  I live in Malta so I must be a bit Maltese, and as I come here on holiday a lot I guess I'm a bit French too!"

I nearly answered her back:  "Maths question: My mother's Dutch, my dad's half German Jew and half Lithuanian Jew, I now live in France with a British husband, my dog is Russian and we just came back from holiday in Italy.  How much of which nationality does that make me?" 

Answer: 100% expat, I reckon!  

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Here are my recently hard-learned lessons from travelling with my boys:

Firstly, if you can plan ahead enough, buy some children's books on the place you are visiting.   We bought 3 books on Venice - two picture books and one short story - and it has had an amazing effect on bringing the places to life for the boys.  Two of the books we have used are part of book series which focus on travelling:  Oiivia, and the Magic Tree House series.  Highly recommended.  I'm hoping that the books will also help make the places we visit more memorable, as I would hate to have made the effort only for them to forget they'd ever been.  it doesn't work so well if you buy them after they've visited - we tried that with our visit to Florence and Pompeii earlier this year and the books were lost on them.

Secondly, TripAdvisor always has good tips on where to stay (we haven't been let down yet) and on this trip, I've finally started using it for restaurant recommendations too.  What a difference!  So much better than wandering around trying to find something other than the normal tourist traps with barely average fare!  

Incidentally, it is worth figuring out your approach to food in advance, so you don't get bamboozled by choice.  Either you try to same thing everywhere  - spaghetti carbonara and rum raisin ice cream were my husband's firm choices - or you decide to try something new everywhere.  For me, that meant yogurt gelato (delicious!), spaghetti primavera (divine!) and pizza di salmone (not too bad actually).  James struck gold this trip - his favourite foods are pizza margherite, lasagne, spaghetti al ragu, bolognese and pomodore, so he had something different every day, and they were all yummy.   Finished with - every time - lemon and pineapple gelato.  Also, always yummy.  I think Italy suits him! :-) 

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Ok, okay, I used to think Paris was my favourite city on Earth - until today.   Today, we did Venice.  Before you start arguing, yes, Saint Mark's square was covered in scaffolding, tourists and pigeons.  Yes, we had an average lunch that didn't set our taste buds on fire.  Yes, we swallowed hard and paid €40 for two espressos and a glass of juice, and couldn't stomach the €100 for the 1/2 hour gondola ride.  Bizarrely, the Bridge of Sighs has been turned into one big watch advertisement.

But it was still unbelievably magical.  The sun was hot, but the narrow cobbled streets were coolly shaded and gently breezy.  The canals were beautifully green, the buildings covered in flower boxes, the shops full of colourful masks, glass and leather bags.  The palazzos were quietly stunning - every building had lovely details that you couldn't help admiring.  The boats (even if we couldn't afford them) were romantic.  The boys loved running up and over the bridges and we didn't have to worry about cars.  The gelato of course was delicious.  

There can't be a more gorgeous city on Earth.  Not even Paris. 

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We're on a 5 day trip to Italy, one of the perks of living in France so close to the border.  The first stop was at a roadside cafe en route and i managed to order coffee ice cream instead of coffee with milk, because I made the mistake of assuming that "gran crema" in Italian was the same as "un grand creme" in French.  Hmmm.  The boys however are well impressed, as they keep ordering their food and asking directions in French and everyone seems to understand them just fine.  It makes them feel very proud!

Not so sure what they think of the tv though - all kids' channels are in Deutsch.  A real multilingual experience this trip has turned out to be! 

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I've just finished speaking with the French Saturday school that the boys will be enrolled in starting in September.  It is nice to know that they will be able to build on everything they've learned this year.  In the meantime, I've got to put my thinking cap on:  how am I going to make sure they don't lose any French over the summer, once we leave these lovely Alpine mountains?  The plan is forming:

A) The boys have already reminded me (when I tried to sneak some French conversation on a recent car journey) that the rule is "we speak French in the car in England, and English in the car in France."  So once we are back across the Channel, French-speaking car journeys become the norm again.  That'll at least help me keep up with them!

B) An Amazon.fr shopping trip is in order.  We need more French DVDs, and some French reading books.  I've let both of those slip a bit while we're here, so I've got to get some new material before we get back.  

C) Games.  Mille Bournes was a fun French card game I remember playing when I was in France years ago, but it costs €20 in the shops for a simple pack of cards.  Question: is it worth it?

D)  French satellite TV.  I've been online to see how it works.  Seems pretty simple.  Just a question as to how much I want to encourage watching tv or not.  I've been lax here about everything actually - from pains au chocolat three times a day to showers (no French jokes please) to bedtimes to screen time.  Must start to take control again! 

Hmmmm.  There's a starting list.  If anyone has any more ideas let me know, I'm in need of inspiration! 

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At 4:30pm exactly the children started filing out of school - and the parents, gathered to swoop them up, gave the leaving pupils and teachers a beautiful, deafening welcome - with cow bells.  Dozens of parents stood swinging large, brass cow bells on thick woven bands.  It was loud, but also relaxing, cheerful, and fun, with a faint nostalgia perhaps of the days when the children left school to work on the family farms. 

I wished I could bring a dozen of those bells home with me to see what the children and teachers in England would think of such a holiday welcome!  What a chuckle!

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Thursday night, night before the last day of school.  Getting ready for bed.  James asks:  "When are we coming back to French school, mum?"  I say, "Well, you'll be going back to your French Saturday school when you get home."  Scott jumps in, "No, mum, we mean here, French school here?"  And I have to say, "We're not coming back.  We're not coming back."  

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I sometimes wonder if my enthusiasm for foreign language learning is a bit out there when it comes to parent obsessions.  Am I the only mum who cares about this?  Does everyone else think that English is going to take over the world, making language learning redundant?  Or that instant translation will soon be available, à la Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?  Maybe it is simpler: no one else cares?  

So I'm more than pleased, I'm actually relieved, when I read some article praising language learning in the mainstream media.   Here is the latest news:  La Jolie Ronde, which offers "language learning for children aged 3-11 years in after school classes, lessons and clubs" in the UK has won an award for the "Best National Activity for 5-12 year olds" at the What's On 4 Junior Awards 2011. 

That means that I'm not a geeky mum after all. Well, at least, that I'm in good company... 

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I never really thought to add food as a criteria for where to choose to live for a year abroad.  But recently I heard of someone who chose a French city for her family's year abroad - rather than the pretty local villages nearby - partly on the basis of the food choice available.  

Now I eat just about everything.  And French food is wonderful.  But to really eat wonderful French food, you have to be prepared to eat the regional specialties.  Here in the Alps, the menu is almost wholly based on a few locally produced, gorgeous staples:  ham, cheese, potatoes, eggs and bread.  And ham and cheese.  And cheese and ham.  And more cheese.   And ham.  

A typical starter in any restaurant is a plateful of cured meat.  The main courses of choice are tartiflette (ham and potatoes baked in cheese), cheese fondue, or ham and cheese pie.  You can usually get an omelette - baked with ham and cheese of course - or a big salad - topped with ham and cheese, of course.   This is followed by the obligatory cheese plate, no matter how much cheese you have already consumed.  And for dessert?  Fromage blanc (a soft cheese often served just with sugar).  

Once you relax into this cuisine, you do begin to appreciate the subtleties of the flavours.  For instance, for the life of me I cannot understand why the regional soft round cheese - reblochon - isn't up there in all the supermarkets around the world next to brie and camembert.  It is to die for.  

However, if you think you might just crave, every so often, a Chinese takeaway, the little French Alpine villages are not for you.  Instead, think city:  Geneva, Annecy, or Grenoble.  There you can eat sushi to your hearts delight, and appreciate the cheesy mountain air - from a distance.  I wouldn't blame you!

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Today at the lakeside beach, James and I were listening to the most curious conversation between a mother and a daughter building a sandcastle.  The mother was speaking English, "Let's build a wall here," and "Need to dig a bit more there." The daughter was happily chatting back in French "D'accord, mais c'est difficile, où est le seau," etc etc.  In effect, one conversation, two languages.

James couldn't figure out why they weren't speaking the same language.  I could only surmise that the father was French, and the mother had never insisted, or had given up insisting that the daughter speak English. She had however persevered in speaking her native tongue.  

It was lovely to see how the arrangement worked so well for them: that the mother hadn't given up speaking English to her daughter, and it caused no problems of communication or friction between them.   Lovely!

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