At Peace with the French.

The English rugby team beat the French rugby team 55-35 today, and that reminded me of the mutual belligerence that is supposed to exist between the English and the French.

I never hated the French. All the French people I ever met were perfectly nice to me, and I got on perfectly well with them. There was the French lorry driver to whom I gave directions (in French) and who reciprocated the favour with a 10-pack of Gaulloises. There was the delightful Hélène from Le Pui who just dripped all that chic for which French women are supposedly renowned. And there was the bunch of French guys I worked with once – they were over here doing an installation job for my employer, and I got the translating assignment because I’d learned a bit of the language at school. They invited me to their lodgings one evening and plied me with absinthe, while I practiced my terrible French on them and they practiced their terrible English on me. It was a potent combination which produced much silliness and hilarity (and I should never have driven home; I shouldn’t.)

And on the subject of the French and silliness, I’m further reminded that I like this bloke. I’m posting the English language trailer because the French one doesn’t have the canoe scene.