“Bonjour.  Bienvenue a la maison de Liverpool.  Comment allez-vous? 

Uhhh…

I’m not sure why this makes me freeze.  I’m prepared for it, and I even know what it means, but my brain shuts off.  I don’t think I was made to learn a different language.  I’ve always been a math and science kind of girl.  

“Bonjour.  Parlez-vous anglais?”  It’s my go to response.  I’m in Montreal, Canada so I know that French and English are both widely spoken, but I don’t want to seem rude or look like an idiot.

I am sitting in a wood panelled ranger station in Glacier National Park, watching a video on bear safety with two friends from different continents. Ben is a building contractor from Seattle. Josh is an actor from Sydney, and we stare, wide eyed as the video presents in graphic detail all the colourful ways a bear can stalk, maim and kill hikers in the back country of Montana. That’s where we are planning to go. Into the back country, but as the warnings in the video get more and more graphic, I’m beginning to have second thoughts.

Our first Piraeus trip takes the tourist route: Metro from Monastiraki – get off at Piraeus, walk out of station – turn right – walk 10 meters – take escalator up over bridge across busy road – walk to ferry terminal – find ferry – get on ferry – leave Piraeus.

 Visit number two is different. The Girl has been here before, and wants to see a little more. I am indifferent, but trust her judgement – she knows about fun stuff. And I am a bit lazy organizing when there is someone else willing to organize it (this I do not like this about myself, and something The Girl & I have some discussions about).