The frustrated words of the immortal Ron Burgundy. Something I’ve been uttering to myself as I sat on the train down to Gatwick on Sunday morning. I was off to Rioja for the first time in my life and wondering just how stupid I’d be feeling over the next few days. I’ve never learned to speak Spanish and spending time in Spain makes me feel like a complete pillock.
Ever since I was a kid I’ve loved learning languages. Food, drink, sport, and language, it’s how you get around the world. I’m lucky doing this wine gig now as I get to travel a bit, visiting vineyards round the world and meeting winemakers and producers and all that. But most of the conversations are in English and not sure if anyone else feels the same, but it makes me feel really awkward.
I remember being in Bordeaux a while back and one of the journos on the trip was complaining that the taxi driver they’d had was “really tough going, he didn’t even speak English”. Please shoot me if you ever hear me talking like that.
I’ve got a decent handle on a few languages, but the top two in the world, Mandarin and Spanish, have just passed me by. Given my slurry accent and massive front teeth, I think Mandarin, as yet, might be a tad beyond me.
Spanish it is, let’s get the audio learning book on the go!