When you speak French? That is the question. I’ll be darned if I know who the hell I am. I know for a fact that I left any shred of dignity, self respect and pride somewhere in La Manche, approximately 3 years ago, on the boat over. That fateful 10.30 pm crossing where my ability to communicate like a funny, intelligent adult drifted out to sea – coming back some time never. And there’s no one, anytime soon, throwing me a buoyancy aid. You really do have to sink or swim. Continue reading “Who Are You Even?”
Our Normandy Life 