Lost and found in translation

Turkish kabob

Tonight, we decided to have kabobs for dinner. Again. There aren’t a lot of places open over New Years. We’d had a chat to the kabob guy last night, and waved at him as we’d walked by earlier in the day, so when we arrived back tonight, there were smiles all round. We ordered Kabob Frites, same as we had last night, but this time we decided to have an extra serving of frites. There’s nothing better than hot chips to warm you up on a chilly evening, we thought, visions of paper bags filled with chips like we used to get in Wellington. So I pointed at the menu and said in my best French, “Le grande frites aussi, s’il vous plait.” Oui, oui. He nodded and smiled. For here or to go? To go. Please have a seat.

Twenty minutes later we left with our dinner – two kabobs and two cans of Coke. The grand frites? In the kabob. The Coke? Who knows, but it hit the spot.


3 thoughts on “Lost and found in translation

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