Thomas Docherty muses on the challenges of second-language acquisition
One evening in September 1975, I boarded a train heading south to start a year abroad for my French degree. The journey to Paris, by train and boat, took 22 hours: this was far away. I had rarely been out of Glasgow before, and the escapade was exciting, but also vaguely threatening. I didn't have enough French to survive easily: I could recite Racine, but Phèdre's desire butters no parsnips, nor does it buy a baguette. However, in an environment where there was no access to English, I rapidly acquired a decent working knowledge, and survived.
Times Higher Education
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