PARLEZ VOUS ANGLAIS, MATE?

Sipping a Leffe and eating superstrength Jamaican chocolate, with the grasshoppers singing away along the railway embankment. My gel padded bike seat is a bit damp, and I've hardly played a note since Landern, but things are pretty cool.

Have you ever had one of those half-arsed attempts at multi-lingual conversation? Where you're both mumbling away in a combination of broken French and broken Dutch at each other for a full minute? And then one of you cottons on you're both English, you're both crap at languages, and neither of you knows the way to the supermarket? Doh!