Friday, November 21, 2014

The Squirrel By Paul Howlett



The Squirrel   by Paul Howlett        (Translated to French)

When I was a tourist in London, I spied a cute squirrel in one of the parks.
To an Australian, a squirrel is cute, as we do not have any squirrels in Australia.  My America wife used to dismiss my comments on squirrels when we visited the United States.  To her a squirrel was a pesky rodent!

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Quand je suis un touriste à Londres, je espionné un écureuil mignon dans l'un des parcs.
Pour un Australien est un écureuil mignon, comme nous ne disposons pas des écureuils en Australie. Mon Amérique femme utilisé pour rejeter mes commentaires sur les écureuils quand nous avons visité les Etats-Unis. Pour lui un écureuil était un rongeur embêtants!

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To me, all squirrels a cute, so with this squirrel in the park looked like a perfect photo opportunity for me. With my camera at the ready, I started to move closer to this animal. 

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Pour moi, tous les écureuils un mignon, si avec cet écureuil dans le parc ressemblait à une séance de photo parfait pour moi. Avec mon appareil photo à la main, je commencé à se rapprocher de cet animal.
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This squirrel was not happy to see me, as he started to chatter in “squirrel talk”.   I am sure that this squirrel was telling me to “get lost”.
I moved closer and the squirrel ran up the nearest tree and continued to swear at me in his squirrel language. The rodent moved higher in the tree.

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Cet écureuil est pas heureux de me voir, comme il a commencé à bavarder dans «parler d'écureuil". Je suis sûr que cet écureuil me disait de "disparaissent".
Je suis rapproché et l'écureuil couru jusqu'à l'arbre le plus proche et a continué à prêter à moi dans sa langue d'écureuil. Le rongeur déplacé plus élevé dans l'arborescence.

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I walked closer to the tree, camera at the ready to take a good photo of my cranky subject.  Just as I was about to take the snap, the squirrel let out a large jet of piss, and I had to jump back to escape the deluge!

Now that was one pissed off squirrel, and I never did get my photograph.

                                                                    ***

Je suis plus près de l'arbre, caméra à la main pour prendre une bonne photo de mon sujet grincheux. Juste comme je l'étais sur le point de prendre la pression, l'écureuil laisser sortir un grand jet de pisse, et je devais revenir en arrière pour échapper au déluge!

Maintenant, qui a été un écureuil énervé, et je ne ai jamais eu ma photo.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Driving in Paris by Paul Howlett


Driving In Paris     by Paul Howlett



   Some twenty or so years ago, I decided to travel to Europe. I commenced learning French at a night school class once a week.  Subsequently to that, I started up some private lessons, and by the time I was ready to fly to Europe, I could make myself understood in French.  At least as a tourist!

    I decided to go French all the way and took a French Airlines flight from Sydney to Paris. I ordered a French car rental to be picked up at Charles de Gaulle Airport. I had three months to tour France and Britain, and I was looking forward to a grand holiday!


    The first problem arose due to President Bush. He ordered the invasion of Iraq and the First Gulf War was in full swing.  This resulted that the French Airplane had to fly away from the Middle East, thus adding a couple of hours onto the flight time.  I did not sleep on the plane. I was excited to be going to Europe and I do not sleep well on planes, as the engine noise seems to permeate every part of the plane together with my body.


   This resulted in a terrible case of Jet Lag, my body ached and I had a pounding headache that would just not go away. I had not slept for two days!

    I exited the plane and walked through customs.  Then I looked for the car rental desk of the company from which I had ordered my little 1000cc Citroen car.  It took me half an hour to find the desk.  Most international airports seem to neglect the desk space for car rentals companies.  I finally found this car rental desk under some stairs, almost out of the building.


    I selected a little red colored Citroen, with stick shift.  The car was brand new to the point of having a “stiff” gear box.  I had a great deal of trouble finding second gear!  I drove around the parking lot (carpark) about four times then headed out on the motorway, heading, I hoped, for Paris.


    I had booked a hotel near the gates of the Palaces of Versailles. I thought that I could drive around Paris to find my hotel.  What a joke.  I became hopelessly lost. At one stage I found that I was heading for the coast!


    My headache increased from bad to very bad. I can still remember the first time I proceeded to make a left hand turn, across traffic. One part of my brain was screaming that everything was wrong, while my conscience brain was driving according to the French rules of the road!


    I made three circumnavigations of the centre of Paris on the Peripherique.   This is the main ring road that goes completely around the old centre of Paris.  I just could not find a sign that pointed me on the way to Versailles.


    I was so tired; I had such a bad headache I almost screamed with the frustration of not finding a way to drive to Versailles.  Remember in those days there was no such thing as a GPS navigator, and as I was on my own, I could not read my very good Michelin Road Map and drive at the same time!


    Finally on my third circuit of the city, I had a “light bulb” moment. I would follow the signs to the old airport in the Paris suburbs, which is situated on the south side of Paris.  Orly Airport is the original airport of Paris, and still in use, and as Versailles is on the same side of Paris, I figured that there just may be signage from Orly to Versailles.


    I drove into the main “put down and pick up” part of Orly airport and sure enough there was a sign showing me the way to Versailles.  I followed all those signs as if they were leading me to the Holy Grail!  Finally, I arrived at Versailles, parked the car almost next to the gates of Versailles and found my room in the Hotel. I was so happy to get out of my sweat stained travelling clothes, take a shower and then head out of foot to explore some of the township of Versailles.


    Yes, headache of not, I was going to keep right on going!


 I paid for that, as I ended up with a headache for three days, but I did get to see the Palace of Versailles a couple of times.  Now that was very enjoyable!

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Differences in American and English Languages. By Paul Howlett


(Translated for our French readers).

In the United States I would drive my car to the parking lot, check the engine under the hood and put my bag in the trunk.


Aux États-Unis, je conduire ma voiture sur le parking, vérifiez le moteur sous le capot et mettre mon sac dans le coffre.


In Australia (or England) I would drive my car to the carpark, check the engine under the bonnet and put my bag in the boot.


En Australie (ou en Angleterre), je conduire ma voiture au parking, vérifier le moteur sous le capot et mettre mon sac dans le coffre.


In the United States I would walk on the side walk.


Aux États-Unis, je marchais sur le trottoir.


In Australia (or England) I would walk on the foot path.


En Australie (ou en Angleterre), je marchais sur le chemin à pied.


When I was in Hawaii, on holidays, I walked into my hotel, and asked three Americans where the carpark was.  I had a bizarre reaction from the three middle aged males who I was talking to.  They looked confused, scratching their heads and did not know what I was talking about.


Quand j'étais à Hawaii, en vacances, je suis entré dans mon hôtel, et j'ai demandé à trois Américains où le parking était. J'ai eu une réaction bizarre de trois hommes d'âge moyen qui je parlais trop. Ils avaient l'air confus, perplexes et ne savaient pas ce que je parlais.


Then I realised that I should have asked where the parking lot was!  When I rephrased my question, then the American men responded and showed me the direction to go.  As I walked away, I overheard one American man say to himself. “Car park, how strange”! 


Puis j'ai réalisé que j'aurais dû demander où le parking était! Quand j'ai reformulé ma question, alors les hommes américains ont répondu et m'a montré la direction à suivre. Comme je suis parti, j'ai entendu un homme américain se dire. »Parking, comme c'est étrange!"


I speak American when I visit the United States.  (grin)


Je parle américain quand je visite les Etats-Unis.