Cogolin. South of France. Sitting on a little stairway, catching my breath after a long bike-ride. Waiting for water and the key to the apartment. A sweet little old lady passes me for the 3rd time in 5 minutes. The small talk is similar each time around:
“Oh, pardon.” And I make way.
“Merci.”
“De rien!”
But this time she carries a pretty flower and I can’t help myself:
“Ah! Un belle fleur!” :-)
“Oui, oui, une très belle fleur!” [or something with that meaning, just in much more fluent French, followed by the gesture to actually give the rose to me!]
“Mais non, fleur pour madame et mademoiselle, pas de homme!”
She must have been puzzled by my limited knowledge of the French language and insisted again. Together with wild gestures I could make myself a bit more understandable with:
“Belle fleur pour toi, pour femme!”
She smiled and started explaining that in France women can give men flowers as well! Very normal. My “Aha, I didn’t know that” must have been a challenge for her:
“Aha, je ne pas comprendre …. que…”
Her smile just got bigger when she again stated it was a normal thing in France for women to give flowers to men. I finished on a high:
“Pas de normal dans Hollande. Dans Hollande belle fleur et pour belle femme…. pour toi!”
She laughed, thanked me and took off again! :-)

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