It is a bit of a shock being in France. People don't seem to own kettles here. Hot drinks don't seem to be the involved after the 'Bonjour'.
I have been coping well, in spite of this situation. I can order coffee or chocolate chaud when I'm out.
Yesterday though, tea in France dipped to a new low.
I was in a cafe, and ordered my chocolate chaud (hot for those of you without knowledge of French), and the person behind the counter said that as the machine had broken, she could only offer me tea. I understood the bit about the machine, mainly because she was pointing to a deconstructed technical item lying on the draining board that looked like it once might have made hot drinks.
I assumed she must have had a kettle behind the counter, so said yes, tea would be fine (or 'oui merci').
You can only imagine my absolute horror as she turned to the hot tap, ran it for a few moments AND FILLED A MUG WITH IT. She then put it on a tray, with the teabag next to it.
I was charged 2.8 euros for this.
My jaw was still hanging somewhere near the floor, and when I managed to bring it back in unity with the rest of my face, I questioned whether it would be hot enough. If it wasn't, she said, I could bring it back and she would run the tap for longer (I think this is what she was saying).
It was with deep melancholy that I sat down to my miserable beverage, which wasn't hot enough, and tasted pretty grim. It didn't seem worthwhile to try again, so I did the British thing and kept quiet.
I think I need to add 'tea therapist' to the 'dessert therapist' as new career options for those with a keen sense of right and wrong in the tea and dessert worlds.
I have been coping well, in spite of this situation. I can order coffee or chocolate chaud when I'm out.
Yesterday though, tea in France dipped to a new low.
I was in a cafe, and ordered my chocolate chaud (hot for those of you without knowledge of French), and the person behind the counter said that as the machine had broken, she could only offer me tea. I understood the bit about the machine, mainly because she was pointing to a deconstructed technical item lying on the draining board that looked like it once might have made hot drinks.
I assumed she must have had a kettle behind the counter, so said yes, tea would be fine (or 'oui merci').
You can only imagine my absolute horror as she turned to the hot tap, ran it for a few moments AND FILLED A MUG WITH IT. She then put it on a tray, with the teabag next to it.
I was charged 2.8 euros for this.
My jaw was still hanging somewhere near the floor, and when I managed to bring it back in unity with the rest of my face, I questioned whether it would be hot enough. If it wasn't, she said, I could bring it back and she would run the tap for longer (I think this is what she was saying).
It was with deep melancholy that I sat down to my miserable beverage, which wasn't hot enough, and tasted pretty grim. It didn't seem worthwhile to try again, so I did the British thing and kept quiet.
I think I need to add 'tea therapist' to the 'dessert therapist' as new career options for those with a keen sense of right and wrong in the tea and dessert worlds.
A confusing bit of trompe l'oeil in Marseille
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