Walking around the Champ de Mars in Paris, having the Eiffel Tower in front of my eyes makes my day. In my happiness, an interesting flower stall at the side of the road intrigues me — automatically, my steps lead me there.

"Bonjour, Madame. De quel genre de fleurs avez-vous besoin?"

The florist... doesn't speak English, does he?

Struggling in silence, all of a sudden, there's a young lady helping me deal with the florist. I'm grateful for her help.

"Um, thank you...?"

I'm not sure if she can speak English.