Utterly carried away by my patchy progrees in French, followed by our host's offhand offer of a stay in his own apartment in Paris while he is away in Argentina this autumn, I am full of enthusiasm for moving to Paris next year after we get back from our South American odyssey. You may smile and say "Oh, Sarah..." but remember that it was an even more casual notion that got us to Marrakech, and surely anyone would agree that Paris is a more respectable place than here?
As for my doting parents, well, I do have a dim and distant recollection of my father saying he wanted to learn French, and how better than coming to France too, with La Mamma?
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