This is really not about lost in translation but rather about the disadvantages of being not lost in translation.

Síle and I had lunch out today and in French Restaurants I love to listen to the general hubbub of background talking when we eat in France, the rolling “rs” music to my ears.
The background noises today were dominated by two voices from different tables ; a woman and a man.

As I listened I began to discover that the music in fact was begining to make sense . my standard of French had improved so that I could actually understand what was being said.
This was a disappointment.
The man was going on and on about how he had paid tiny money , and basically cheated the owner , for an apartment in the Pays Basque, the woman re-telling anecdote after anecdote proving that one of her work collegues was not pulling his weight as she did.

My lovely French innocence was shattered , I realised that to understand all sometimes does not mean to forgive all.