Brittany Peers

I have never been very good at foreign languages.

I did take French and German to 'O' level although that was way back in 1979 and with the natural evolution of language that would probably mean that any attempted conversation with Nationals now from those two countries would sound positively Medieval.

Even at the supposed peak of my linguistic capabilities having laboured over them as a student I did make some huge and, in retrospect, humorous mistakes although at the time nothing could have been more excruciatingly embarrassing. 

In a packed school playground in a Parisian suburb, whilst on an exchange trip aged 16, I meant to say to a group of female french students that I liked music but it came out, unfortunately as "I love you" in a collective sense. 

In the second week of the same trip I was whisked away by my host family to the Brittany Coast. 

I still contend today that I was kidnapped and that behind the scenes some diplomatic mission secured my release and repatriation with fellow students and teachers. 

Whilst there all of the host household were either struck down with Mumps or had to dedicate their time to looking after the swollen and irritable invalids leaving me to make my own entertainment. 

I found an old rusty bike in the shed behind the cottage retreat and took to riding around the beautiful countryside perfecting my french pronunciation of "Une biere blonde s'il vous plait"at various roadside and beach-side cafes, bars and tabacs. 

As long as I turned up for the roll-call at the evening meal no-one seemed at all bothered about "l'Anglais'. 

I did cycle many miles along the narrow, high hedged lanes between the small rural village where I was staying to the quaint harbour side towns and through the dunes of broad white sandy beaches but did not seem to improve in terms of fitness at all. 

That very hands on experience, albeit a bit blurry and sweaty in a Breton Spring, gave me the motivation to knuckle down for the final few weeks on return to England and I got through my 'o' level oral examination with a credit using my rather crude, colloquial and somewhat boozy description of what I did on my French holiday.