Last night I had my final French lesson. I've been going to a lady in Raynes Park for about six months for conversation practice, general telling-off, glasses of Ricard and a dish of Pringles. I don't feel like I've improved that much in six months. It's probably my own fault for doing no study at all between lessons. I'm hoping that when I step off the train in Brussels a switch will flick and my brain will instantly be in French. I realise this is not going to happen. I will probably just speak my usual Franglais and point a lot.
Unfortunately I'm still at the stage where listening to someone speak French is like listening to knitting. Not the act of knitting but actual knitting. I know that doesn't make sense but it does really. And when I speak French I feel like I am knitting, complete with slipped stitches, holes, and the wrong tension.
The only time I speak really authentic French appears to be when I'm talking to my daughter and her boyfriend and I'm drunk. The answer seems to be that I should stay drunk, all the time. I'm not sure if this is a long term solution.