Last Friday, Sybille and I went to eat at our favourite local Italian restaurant. Grosseto is on Jugoslávských partyzánû, (Yugoslav Partisan Street!), about 15 minutes walk from our flat. On the table next to us were a young couple, clearly in love. His left hand was holding and squeezing her right hand, across the table!
Then I noticed that they were speaking to each other in English. But in both cases, it was English spoken with a distinct foreign accent. Clearly, neither spoke the other’s native tongue. They were each using their second language – English, to communicate with each other.
It soon became apparent that she was Czech. She placed their order with the waiter, without using English. But where was he from? It was a bit of a mystery. The answer only came after she had said to . . . → Read More: La langue d’amour
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