So for the second time this year I was oblivious to the fact that elections were on, thankfully Mother informed me before it was too late so I popped down to the Australian Embassy, conveniently located right next door to the Eiffel Tower, much easier then trying to find the villa-like embassy on the edge of the desert in Jordan.
Nice one Australia, a photo I took earlier this year… when the sun was out
I can honestly say I have never been less prepared to vote for anything in my life! I tried to google some fort of electorial information, such as..maybe..the candidates! All I could find was that John Brumby was indeed still our Premier, helpful, though not useful…Anyway off I set, hoping that perhaps they would be organised enough to have little information pamphlets for other out-of-touch Victorians, but alas, they did not. Once I got through the security and found the right floor (all of which I bizarrely did conversing in French) I found myself in a little room with a few tables, a couple of (much to my delight) old, crinkly The Australian Weekender magazines and a desk behind a glass window. I approached the desk and pressed the button. A woman with a heavily French accented voice welcomed me and informed me that I was the first Victorian for the day (interesting as it was about 11:30, they apparently have 10 the day before!) and therefore they needed to turn on the computer to find my details regarding my local council etc. After a good couple of minutes and the computer not co-operating the woman decided to seek some help. A tall, gangly man in a suit followed her back in and gave me a quick ‘g’day’, my heart lifted! They continued to fiddle with the computer and converse in ‘franglais.’ It was quite hilarious (though I didn’t let it on) to hear his heavily Australian-accented French particularly when he exclaimed ‘C’est pas vrai’ = say pah vraeh- roughly translated to ‘You’ve got to be kidding!’ Finally they were able to retrieve all my details (after a good twenty minutes), they gave me my two sheets and an envelope, I ticked some boxes (hoping for the best) and folded them up and slotted them in a large box next to the desk, all in the space of about 30 seconds.
On my way to the métro afterwards I saw a chemist across the road with a little sign on the door saying ‘ENGLISH SPOKEN.’ In a lazy mood and not wanting to be interrogated for twenty minutes by the chemist I decided this would be a brilliant opportunity to just duck in and grab some more iron tablets, especially as I wasn’t sure of the word ‘tablet’ in French as there appears to be numerous. Anyway so I ducked in and went up to the counter asked ‘parlez-vous anglais’ (it had been quite a while since I’d used that line!) and the young girl behind the counter nodded her head. Brilliant. Could I have some iron tablets please? She looks at me, quizzically, and replied slowly ‘What is iron?’
I knew it. Karma for being lazy.
‘Du fer’ I replied.
She went and retrieved the little box of tablets for me without a single question before I handed over my 3 euros and then I was out of there. Definitely my quickest pharmacy visit of all time!
