Paris is overrun by foreigners who cannot even speak French properly. Youdon't believe me? Just try getting off a train at Gare de Lyon and findinga...taxi driver who can speak French properly.That was my first experience of Paris.I had spent a year living in la Bourgogne, (which now considers itself partof real France) and was due to meet with Serge, the son of a teacher calledLaurence, who I had made friends with in Beaune. At least that was what Iwas told.Laurence had, quite sensibly, as. The one who wanted his furniture stored. The one who already had half his house lot enclosed in one of the lock-ups. I didn't realise then that he was the one about to start as my latest boss." What happened next, honey?"She felt comforted by his use of the endearment and went on."I panicked. I rushed around packing whatever belongings I had in the office into my briefcase. I had to leave some things behind, but I wasn't thinking too straight. I picked up whatever I could grab quickly and let. More

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