It's in the middle of the season for students of languages to make off to Irish College or to Germany, France, Italy, Spain, there to improve their fluency. For, in spite of the numerous aids of today - radio, television, videotapes, compact discs, not to mention the Internet, you still are wise to settle down in the ambience of one place, usually staying with a family. One old-timer used to relate his first experience. It was in Paris, and what he remembered chiefly was the wine. There were two of them at the language learning, much of which was picked up around the table. Each put on weight there. The food was good but they chiefly remember the wine.
Now this was in the days before boys of 16 or 17 had been introduced to the pub, but as even the young daughter of about 12 was allowed a sip from her father's glass, they assented when the jug of red was passed around. "Good for the digestion," they were told. They tried it and agreed. So much so that, before they left, the red wine had become more like rose, or even finer in colour. Well watered. You couldn't blame the family: money is money. And neither of the pair thought of giving the master or mistress of the house a present of a bottle or two, as a hint, or just as a present.
Later, in Germany, where no wine was served, the mistress of the house, a lovely spacious place, was as much a help to the students, usually three or four, as were the directors of the Summer School for Foreigners at the local university. She brought in interesting friends to meet them, held musical evenings with much German singing, and introduced them to young people of their own age and educational level.
If you were not at a course, she had some friends who would, for a small sum, coach you in the language while walking around in the local woods or on the river, or join you in a cafe, all for a modest fee. Her son, aged 30, charming and just having achieved his doctorate, used to wag his finger: "Mama, your German is disimproving. I'll have to take you in hand."
At another German pension the mistress of the house said once: "That young man doesn't eat more than a little bird." Afterwards he said: "Not surprising, as we didn't get much more than a bird's portion." But he added: "She did insist that we went to Lohengrin at the Opera and that was something to be grateful for." It's all education. Y