The Chateau of Happily-Ever-Afters. Jaimie Admans

watch her green-tipped hair walking away and wonder what I’ve let myself in for coming here. I don’t understand a word of the language, and even though Kat’s taught me to ask ‘parlez-vous anglais?’ in shops, she’s also told me not to count on any locals speaking English. The next few weeks might not be quite the relaxing holiday I was hoping for.

      In the épicerie, the shopkeeper greets me with a bright ‘bonjour’ and comes out from behind the counter babbling in French. After a series of hand gestures and me butchering the pronunciation of the three words I know, he goes back behind the counter and watches me like he’s not sure if I’m a foreigner or a really weird shoplifter.