My editor is in the process of refreshing his French, and has recently taken to posting to his blog using French rather then English. It shames me to say (given that I hold an SCE Higher Grade 'A' in the damn language) that I couldn't manage anything approaching the fluidity of language that Nik's attempting - all I get is ghosts of teachers attempting to train me in the arcane arts of conjugating reflexive verbs, the use of slightly underhand set phrases of ready-conjugated complexities ("Il faut que je dise" is one that sticks in my mind), and echoes of "Bring me your notebook". I was pleased to realise, however, that I understood pretty much everything in his most recent post. I ran it through the automatic Babel Fish translation service, and was interested to note that it didn't mangle this text as much as I've seen it do to others in the past. It translated Nik's post as:

There is large a problem with the company which directs the trains in my line: the communication. Sometimes it is when we are sat down on the train in the center of nowhere and the driver say to us that it do not know why. One formerly it is perhaps on the ways when the screen reads ' System Fault'. Yesterday Ca was with the fenetre tickets. ' I have a ticket "weekender". Or can I go tomorrow, ' I ask. ' Norwich? Peterborough?' Paul is still in Gran Canaria with Trevor, Jon and the others, thus I desired outward journey with quotes, or perhaps the beach. Well on it will be cold, but I have large a wind-breaker and I like to look at the sea on the rocks when there is nobody around. ' Only London, ' known as the woman in the other face of glass. ' London?' I say. ' But I can go in Clacton and Ipswich before the exchange of organization which directs the trains.' ' Yes, ' she says. ' It is true, but maintaining it is all different.' ' Why?' I ask. ' One moment, ' it say, and appele supervising to them. Both speak for one moment, and supervising it leans towards the fenetre. ' We do not know, ' it says. ' Before the exchange, you can go everywhere known the network, but now we are to dispute some with our department of walk. They cannot decide if you etes peremettre to travel in places which you cannot go with the ticket which you always use to go has London.' ' If that must I make?' I ask. ' Can I go to the beach this weekend?' ' I do not know, ' it admits. ' You can still ask for matain tomorrow... ' I leave has this point. Thus I am not with the beach today, but they are not necessary bad. Many papers about my loan-housing arrive this morning and I owe these lira. Perhaps I will walk in the centre town for a coffee and I can read them in comfort. More comfort than there has on the trains or is a beach cold, any way.

"it leans towards the fenetre" is one of my favourite phrases. Something at the back of my mind tells me that there should be an accent floating above one of the vowels, but it nonetheless amuses me that Babel Fish just couldn't be bothered translating it.