One of the joys of being in foreign countries is discovering and interpreting the signs one encounters.
My all time favourite is ‘Sauf Bus’, which I first encountered on the parking place of a French motorway rest stop. Whenever I don’t know a French word I try whatever English or German word looks similar, and since the three languages are closely related this often yields usable results. ‘Saufen’ in German means drinking to excess, especially alcohol. So ‘Sauf Bus’ conjured up an image of a bus full of drunken Germans, loudly singing disreputable songs and topping up their blood alcohol with cheap beer while careering down the motorway. It seemed eminently sensible to direct them to their own parking space, so they would not irritate decent French people with their alcohol fuelled antics. I burst into loud laughter and expressed my approval of the sign enthusiastically. MDL was baffled by this sudden outburst and enquired about the cause of my levity. Upon my explanation he knitted his brows and said, shattering my jolly image with three succinct words, ‘sauf’ means ‘except’. Apparently ‘Sauf Bus’ simply meant that busses weren’t allowed to park in that spot. How utterly utterly boring!
Another favourite of mine is any sign that says ‘Rappeler’. For example, there might be a sign indicating a nearby school, and under it is written, ‘rappeler’. ‘Rappel’ in German means to lose one’s rag, to go mad, as in ‘einen Rappel kriegen’, so I interpreted the sign accordingly. ‘Don’t lose your temper now, there may be schoolchildren on the road!’ How very peculiar, were the French so short tempered that they had to be warned against it all the time? Again I was corrected by an unamused friend. ‘Rappeler’ means ‘reminder’! Chastened I sank back into my seat.
Here in La Bourboule I discovered the most ridiculous sign ever. It shows a fish jumping out of the river, with a red bar across it, and the legend Peche Interdit. I had a field day with that one. ‘Firstly,’ I declared, ‘it is ridiculous to address the fish with a sign that they can only see if they jump out of the river, thus doing what the sign forbids. Secondly, if fish want to commit suicide, what right have we to stop them?’ But the ‘Peche Interdit’ part of the sign really got me going. ‘Why order the fish to talk to each other, this is ridiculous! And anyway, fish can’t read! What a stupid sign!’
My companion, who had tried to interrupt me for some time, finally got a word in edgeways. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Was he dense or something? ‘‘Peche’ means ‘fish’, and ‘interdit’ means ‘talking to each other’. The word derives from ‘inter’ meaning ‘between’, and ‘dit’ being a form of ‘dire’ meaning ‘saying/talking’. Therefore ‘Peche Interdit’ means ‘Fish talk to each other’.’ But my closely reasoned analysis of the sign failed to impress my friend. ‘‘Peche’ means ‘fishing’’, claimed the omniscient one. ‘So what are you saying, the sign tells fish to talk to anglers? Very nice thought, but I can’t see it happening!’ He began to pull his hair. ‘No, what I am saying is that the sign means ‘Fishing is not allowed’ – ‘interdit’ means forbidden!’ ‘So why on earth doesn’t the sign show a fisherman with a red bar across? What an extremely misleading and stupid sign!’ ‘Why don’t you just learn French,’ he said. ‘What, and miss out on all this fun?’
