"How to be French" by Margaret Ambrose

The sun was shining one morning, so I decided to ditch the metro and walk to Mum's hotel instead. I was wearing black Capri pants, a plain white shirt and I had a scarf tied around my neck. Plus I had my newfound Paris accessory: the Paris Personality- a mixture of pride and indifference.

Even though it had just turned 8am, the tourist buses were already beginning to pull up alongside the Eiffel Tower and American tourists in their shorts and polo shirts spilled out onto the street with cameras dangling from their necks.

I was aware that a middle-aged man was staring at me and as I approached he said within earshot, "You see, honey. That's a real French woman." He seemed very proud of his observation.

"Actually I am Australian," I smiled as I passed him, "and you should be careful. Most people in Paris speak English". The man looked shocked and his teenage kids sniggered.

Excerpt from How to be French by Margaret Ambrose (2005)