I’m a really bad tourist and always want to eat pizza wherever I am in the world, so during our day in the neighborhood of Montmartre in Paris, I found a pizzeria called Il Brigante, run by an Italian transplant. We walked in and nicely asked him if he spoke English (in French, of course). He said no. And then he started to tell us in French that he spoke French, Italian, Spanish, German . . . I WISH we would’ve asked him if he speaks Polish, since Jack does, but we just smiled, because everyone in France had been so nice to us, and we couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. In the end, he spoke perfect English, and we got a fantastic pizza.
Photo taken at: Il Brigante