Study Shows Just How Drunk You Should Be To Best Speak a Foreign Language

A little alcohol improves foreign language pronunciation; too much leads to sloppiness. Above: one of my less-than-perfectly-executed diatribes in French (against the discomfort of bras), as captured by resident TP illustrator Johanna Thomé de Souza (click on the image for more of her work).

One lovely evening a ways back, U. Michigan students were served cocktails, then tested on their ability to learn Thai pronunciation. The tests were performed double-blind, and the cocktails contained varying amounts of alcohol (some, secretely, had none). Finally, science was poised to say how much exactly you should drink before attempting to pronounce new foreign words.

The answer: a single shot (an American shot = 1.5 ounces/44 mL of 45% alcoholic liquor). Those who drank cocktails containing 1.5 ounces of mixed cognac and rum outperformed those drinking one, two or three ounces of the same, as well as those who had been unwittingly served alcohol-flavored virgin cocktails. Also of note: Those who drank on a completely empty stomach showed no improvement with alcohol whatsoever; the best performers drank on a mostly empty stomach — they had eaten only a candy bar.

“To learn a second language is to take on a new identity,” the research team (Alexander Guiora et al.) reported in the writeup of their 1972 experiment. They theorized that to break into a new language you must break out of your old identity — no easy task. Dismantling the barriers to foreign pronunciation is especially hard; our first-language backgrounds serve to set limits on the range of noises our mouths might otherwise make. Alcohol, then, improves the “degree of permeability of language ego boundaries”, i.e., it allows us to get silly, and make new, silly-seeming sounds.

The obvious conclusion is that a shot should be administered on a mostly empty stomach (or two, I'd guess, after a full meal) to everyone is about to attempt to pronounce a foreign language — assuming, of course, that they can drink responsibly. Likewise for pronunciation lessons in langauge courses, but, more than 40 years after the discovery of this amazing technique, universities and language schools continue to drag their feet on implementation. This, in spite of the growing evidence of the other health benefits of a drink or two per day.

Scientists have also been rather lax about delving into the implications of this study in the decades since it came out. After quite a bit of searching, I haven't been able to turn up any other attempts to replicate or expand research on language learning and alcohol (though two studies have shown lesser pronunciation improvement with valium and hypnosis). Google Scholar shows 171 citations of the 1972 study however; these papers often say that the alcohol study raises an “interesting” point that, as one put it, “obviously has no practical implications for language teaching” [emphasis added].

That's OK, though. I expect those Tipsy Pilgrim readers who are university language department heads will now snap to attention and get this fixed. After all, rarely in studies of foreign language acquisition does a teaching method prove such an unequivocal success. And it's such an easy one to implement!

Anyhow, for those you who don't oversee institutional language learning but who do enjoy speaking to foreigners, this — let's call it The Single Shot Method — should also prove useful. And, if coupled with the official Tipsy Pilgrim Language Method, you'll be unstoppable.

Additional notes:

• The students were also given a test overall mental functioning, which showed, unsurprisingly, that alcohol in any amount doesn’t help in tests of problem-solving or memory. So it's doubtful that alcohol would be of use in grammar lessons, for example.
• As several less-scientifically-minded writers have pointed out, teetotelers might be able to get similar results by affecting a faux-drunken attitude in their language practice. So, while this is as yet unproven, completely sober language learning may be acceptable for certain more-liberated folks.
• It would be interesting to have had an additional control of students who did not drink at all, and who knew that they were not drinking. In the study, even the zero-alcohol control group was served cocktails designed to make them believe that they were getting tiddly, and since so many people drink just for the excuse to let themselves be ridiculous, I would suspect that fake-cocktail drinkers would have still wildly outperformed conscious abstainers. Unfortunately, this question remains unanswered.

I'll leave you with this dramatization of the difficulty in attempting to permeate language ego boundaries. Have you employed the Single Shot Method improve your language performance? What were your results? Please let me know in the comments.

Get Fluent in Any Language in Just 20 Minutes!

Learn to speak languages with without pesky bullshit like comprehension or communication. Illustration by Johanna Thomé de Souza *Translations: "Fuck yeah!" • I'm from Moscow. • That's tragic! • Even his dick doesn't know. • To the Republic! • To Stalin! • Cheers.The Tipsy Pilgrim Language Method allows you to joke, flirt and toast right off the bat — we skip all that bullshit about getting directions to your hotel or finding out how someone is doing.

We feel that other language methods unduly stress the ability to understand words and respond in an appropriate way. One such example is Benny Lewis' (nevertheless recommended) Fluent in 3 Months, which exists in a more sober and productive parallel universe to Tipsy Pilgrim. It boils down to this: to achieve his titular promise he downgrades the idea of “fluent” to just being able to hold a conversation, and from there relies on speaking from day one and — he’s less forthright about this — a hell of a lot of work. That’s dandy, but what if you need to become fluent in much less than three months — say, between dinner service and when your flight lands?

Introducing the TP Method: Key Concepts

First, we’ll downgrade our definition of "fluent" literally beyond all comprehension ("fluent" really just means "flowing" anyway). The point is not to understand what is being said, but — and this is ALWAYS more important, in any case — to continue the conversation in a pleasurable manner. For example, until the next drink is poured, or pheromones take over. At TPHQ, we feel language is highly overvalued as a communicative device. Think about your total language use over the last 24 hours; now ask yourself how much of that verbiage — yours and your interlocutors’ — actually presented any new or interesting ideas.

The second rule of the Tipsy Pilgrim Method is: Be funny. And it’s tricky to perform verbal fireworks with the amount of vocabulary you can learn in 20 minutes, so we’ll have to make a tiny bit of vocabulary and cultural awareness count for a lot.

To achieve this second point, we’ll be borrowing that trade secret of television comedy writers: push everything to its limit. This is how screenwriters deal with those moments of zero inspiration when we need to come up with a joke, fast. (In drama, we would go for nuance, but in comedy, we go for broke on extremes. E.g., dramatic characters ponder sorrowfully whereas their comedic counterparts vomit their guts out, preferably literally. This fallback technique explains why sitcom characters sooner or later all come to resemble socially unaware, halfwit loudmouths.)  The same concept can be applied to that ultimate moment when inspiration and, especially, words generally fail: that of speaking a language you don’t understand. The Tipsy Pilgrim Language Method doesn’t waste time with small-bore expressions of affinity or information, rather, we’ll go for love and horror, passion and inebriation.

Languages Like a Tipsy Pilgrim: The Method

The items to learn are presented in English along with examples from whatever language I feel does the phrase particularly well — but the same principles apply in any language. Work through this list with a native speaker (e.g., the person next to you on the flight, a language exchange partner over the internet, etc.) to find the right expressions for your target language (many of these won’t be in dictionaries); then memorize them.

1. Don’t bother learning the word for yes; rather, find the target language’s closest thing to "abso-fucking-lutely”. With such an expression, you can convincingly express your understanding of everything that you don’t understand, and, moreover, show that you enthusiastically agree. People love to be told they’re right; your interlocutors will find such a response funny, pleasurable, or quite possibly a turn-on. Here are examples of a few languages’ most enthusiastic possible expressions of affirmation: Catalan: Sí, deu n'hi do! German: Ja, sowas von! French: Non.

2. Hand-in-hand with the previous point, don’t bother with negation in your target language. It's like the first rule of improv comedy: never say "no". Whether you understand it or not, agree with whatever's being said, and add to it.

3. Question tags. You’re going to have lots of questions, and, even if you don’t, you should, to make it seem that you understand the conversation and want it to continue. You can accomplish this by repeating any declarative-sounding string of words and adding a question tag — the magic words at the end of a statement that turn it into a question. (This is generally much easier than learning the grammatical constructions for questions.) In English we say “... right?” In Spanish: … ¿verdad? (ver-THAD?, truth) In French: … n’est-ce pas ? (nays pa?, isn’t it so?).  In German: nicht wahr? ([sound of hacking up phlegm]-var?, not true?). In Russian: … Да? (da?, yes?)

4. Learn at least one simple local joke. For example, if speaking Serbian you should know at least one joke about dead babies. In English, non-native speakers can use: "A man walks into a bar, and falls down," accompanied by an emphatic demonstration. In some languages, tales of the most obnoxious possible pickup lines serve a similar function; Galician has a particularly rich tradition.

5. Extremely positive adjectives. If you’re doing things right in your new country, you’ll be invited places for drinks, sex, and/or food. It would be awful to be limited to a word like “good” for describing these things; you must rather know a local word or two for “fabulous” or “mind-blowing”. In Serbian: do jaja (do yaya, meaning literally “to the testicles”) or fenomenalno. In Catalan: boníssim (super great). In Brazilian Portuguese: gostoso (meaning, depending on the context: tasty, desirable, beloved, fuckable, or sensuous).

6. “People” and “thing” are your nouns. They’re maximally vague, so they can be employed, along with pointing, in almost any situation. In Spanish: gente (HEN-tay, people). In Russian: человек (chel-ov-YEK, person). In Italian: roba (an informal word for a thing, stuff, and also drugs).

7. Though as per rule #2 we never negate, we must still prepared for the less-than-wonderful things that may come up. A ways back, on my university semester abroad, my Chilean host mother launched into a tale of why she had divorced her husband, who was over for dinner that night and was sitting across the table. It seems he had fucked lots of women. She looked at me, expecting a response. I looked at the ex-husband, and then at the two kids. A few years of high school Spanish and two decades of life had really not prepared me for such a situation. We need a way to respond with limited language when things — big or small — are headed south, and the TP answer is: “How tragic!” (¡Qué trágico! in Spanish). It’s an all-purpose expression of pain and loss, and, since it’s rather literary and over-the-top, it also can show that you have a sense of humor about the whole thing. This phrase is easy to learn in most languages and is almost universally useful; you can bring it out whether the coffee is cold, the taxi meter “isn’t working”, or a penis has strayed where it shouldn’t be.

8. “Guy”/”dude”/”badass.” If you’re getting into properly interesting situations, you’ll use this a lot more than “Mr.” or “Ms.” In Serbian: bre (dude, brother; also used as a general interjection). In Brazilian Portuguese: malandro (ma-LAN-drew; a cool, bad-ass lowlife). In Chilean Spanish: huevon (way-OWN; meaning a guy, friend, or total jerk, depending on the context).

9. “Darling.” It’s wise to show affection for your new friends. In Italy, use bello (literally, beautiful) to address a man, bella for a woman. In French: poulet (literally, chicken) or chouchou d’amour (shoo-shoo damoour; a very sappy, stupid term for darling).

10. “I don’t know.” The most reasonable and honest answer to any question. In informal French: chais pas (shay-PAH). In Catalan: cap idea. In Japonese: わからない (wakaranai).

11. “I’m from Rome too!” When travelling, you will repeatedly face the question, “Where are you from?” You’re supposed to give your hometown so that your interlocutor can exclaim he’s been there and seen some stupid landmarks, or that he hasn’t and anyway what’s up with your _____ (famous politician, celebrity slut, or national stereotype). God, these conversations are boring. Derail them by responding, in your best attempt at Italian, for example: Sono di Roma. In Dutch: Ik kom uit Amsterdam. In Russian: Я из Москвы (Ya iz Moskvy). Etc. Remain firm on this point, and you’ll avoid all discussion of inane cultural differences or your country of origin. For extra credit, cite a hip neighborhood and/or a local expression of pride, e.g., when speaking Serbian, you should always bellow munze konza to indicate that you hail from Belgrade’s coolest borough, Zemun, and that it completely rules.

12. “Passionately” will be your one adverb. It’s useful for explaining how things can/will/should/did happen, from cooking to cocktail preparation to dancing to, obviously, lovemaking. The world’s best language for any of this is Brazilian Portuguese: apaixonadamente (a-pai-sho-na-da-MEN-chee).

13. One toast, preferably an outdated and classy one. Go drinking in an old-man dive bar on your first night in a new country to properly obtain this knowledge (young people generally have no class and have lost their traditions). If toasting with old members of the communist party in Russia, for instance, you should stand, shout “to the Republic!” (за республику, za respubliku) and down your vodka in one gulp. Traditionally, Stalin executed guests who failed to perform this correctly. For another example, see the fascinating world of Catalan toasts.

14. Gestures are an integral part of language that are almost never covered by language methods. Employing a few culture-specific gestures is classy as hell, and allows you to fake a high level of cultural awareness. Your hands should not do the same thing when you’re speaking Italian as when you’re speaking French. This blog has previously covered Brazil’s particularly large and amusing vocabulary of gestures. 

15. Untranslatables — every language seems to have a few words that its speakers insist cannot be translated into other languages. This is bullshit — such words invariably have equivalents in at least one other language — but defer to the local culture by pretending to believe it. And, in any case, these words are interesting because they tend to reveal local obsessions. Brazil has saudades (sow-DA-jeez)— a celebrated and intense feeling of nostalgia. Bosnians have sevdah, which they also insist is uniquely theirs, but which means much the same thing, perhaps tinged with more tragedy. Germans have schadenfreude, which of course we borrow in English when we want to make laughing at others’ pain sound like some classy foreign thing. The French, believe it or not, actually do spout their stereotypical oh-la-la, but it’s usually to express disgust and disapproval — one is never impressed in French. Other supposed untranslatables are listed here and here.

16. “I fucked it all up!” — Chances are you will do this within minutes of arriving in a new country, and at regular intervals thereafter. Apologizing is boring, however. Demonstrate respect and cultural awareness by swearing at your own stupidity in the native tongue. In French: Je me suis chié dessus ! (Zhuh muh swee shee-ay duh-soo, I shat all over it.) Mexican slang: Hice puras chingaderas (EE-say PU-ras chin-gah-DAY-ras, I did absolute bullshit). In Turkish: Iste simdi boku yedim (literally, now I eat shit).

Extra Credit: Beyond the First 20 Minutes

I’ve lived in nine countries, and when I first arrived in most of them, I didn’t speak much of the language. And I’ve found it’s true, as Benny claims, that in order to advance with a language you must just jump in and start speaking. But rather than badgering and cajoling people into speaking their own language with you (as opposed to English or whatever), try being funny. This is why the TP Method is a great starting point in any language, even if you intend to eventually achieve a more traditional, communicative level of fluency. You’ll never advance in a language if people won’t speak it with you, and they’ll never be patient enough to do so if you’re not amusing to talk to. So you need to be entertaining (those who are rich, good dancers, and/or, you know, easy on the eyes, can ignore this and pretty much the rest of the world's advice).

As you continue in your studies, keep in mind that language learning styles are highly personal and you should take my, or Benny's, or any other internet guru's advice with a large grain of salt. Academic research[1] has shown that many different methods can work, and the absolute best you can do is find a way to learn that matches your own style. And it's so, so important to choose a way to learn that you personally find fun.

If you happen to be an independent, self-motivated learner like me, these suggestions might help:

1. From both cost and efficiency perspectives, language schools and university classes are invariably a bad bet, when compared to getting a book and supplementing that with online private tutors and/or language exchanges. Look for books that emphasize communicating in situations, particularly in situations similar to those you expect to face at first. Grammar is important to help you feel comfortable and find some shortcuts, but generally should not be an end in and of itself.

2. These gurus turned me onto Anki, a modern version of flashcards that I love, as it’s always in my phone and always synchronized with the latest things I’m studying in my laptop. Of course, paper flashcards work just as well, if you don’t mind carrying a pile of them around to study in spare moments.

3. Of the many, many sites I’ve tried for finding free language exchanges and paid tutors, italki.com is the best. The quality of “professional” teachers on the site varies enormously, but they do offer a cheap trials to help you find a good one. Other options are Livemocha and VerbalPlanet.

4. For meeting foreigners coming through your city, and locals when you’re traveling, the Couchsurfing site can be useful (whether or not you want to host/crash with strangers) — just don’t give them money, as this evil, now-corporate entity has defrauded its members on a massive scale, and has exceptionally abusive policies claiming to “own” all of its users’ photos and messages. A nicer but currently less-populated alternative is bewelcome.org. Also of use: scrabbin.com seems to be particularly good for German language exchanges, polyglotclub.com for French (though the site is unbelievably annoying), loquo.com is Spain's and Catalonia’s answer to Craigslist, and ВКонтакте is the Facebook of Russia.

5. Like most language learners and translators, I’m almost constantly logged on to WordReference and Google Translate. Of particular use are WordReference's forums, where a lot of out-of-work translators seem to have nothing better to do than ponder your trickiest questions.

6. Google Hangouts is now superior to Skype for free, panglobal audio and video calling. This is because the former allows free screen- and google-doc-sharing for all (Skype now charges for screensharing on Macs, and has no document sharing). This makes Google Hangouts wonderful for collectively correcting texts during classes or language exchanges with someone across the world.

7. Have a drink! Actual academic research[2] has shown that getting tipsy improves peoples' ability to correctly pronounce words in a strange language, since it lowers inhibitions. 

Any further recommendations for minimally communicative foreign language use, as well as actual language learning, are welcome in the comments. In the coming weeks we'll have significantly more to say about Russian, as that happens to be the TP project of the moment.

1. Lightbown, Patsy M.; Spada, Nina (2013-01-24). How Languages are Learned 4th edition (Oxford Handbooks for Language Teachers) (Kindle Locations 1915-1918). Oxford University Press Elt. Kindle Edition.↩

2. Lightbown, Patsy M.; Spada, Nina (2013-01-24). How Languages are Learned 4th edition (Oxford Handbooks for Language Teachers) (Kindle Locations 1982-1983). Oxford University Press Elt. Kindle Edition. . ↩

The 25 Most Important Gestures in Brazilian Portuguese

You can't speak Portuguese without moving your hands. And, as you might expect from a people with their own style of kissing, Brazilians have a grand repertoire of unique gestures. Among them: "big fat liar", "this person's quality stuff", and "in the hood".

The following is a video anthology of 25 of Brazilians' most important gestures for communicating about relationships, failure, theft, scheming, sex acts, etc. And as a bonus, a little instruction on the unique Brazilian finger snap. This documenting of Brazilian supra-verbal communication took place a few drinks during last year's carnival.

 The gestures, in order, are:

1. Mentirona — big fat liar
2. Rapidinho — faster
3. Gostoso — that (person/thing) looks pretty damn tasty
4. Gostoso (mais sutil) — pretty damn tasty (more subtle)
5. Sujou — it didn't work out
6. Fudeu — fucking doesn't work
7. Sujou 2 — it didn't work out
8. Vamos alí — let's sneak off together
9. Afogar o ganso — to drown the goose (have sex)
10. Faz tempo — it was long ago
11. Nossa, muito trabalho — God, I'm tired, it's so much work
12. Escorrendo o veneno — Salivating venom (talking shit about someone)
13. Boquete — blow job
14. Bola gato — roll a cat (oral sex)
15. Igual — the same
16. Do mesmo jeito/tudo igual — on the same wavelength
17. Planejando alguma maldade — scheming
18. Na quebrada — in the hood
19. Na faixa/meu brother — this person's quality stuff
20. Amigo do peito — we're tight
21. Vou furar o teu olho — I'm going to puncture your eyes, you dipshit
22. Robou — stolen
23. Parabens — congratulations
24. Tô de mal — broken up with someone
25. Tô de bem — we're together

Bonus: How to do the Brazilian finger snap (o estalo brasileiro)

The standard caveats apply: I don't pretend that this is a definitive anthology, and I certainly don't expect that all Brazilians will agree on the meanings of every one of these gestures. You may want to supplement your studies with this more sober look at Brazilian gestures. And, as always, feel free to chime in below or contact me with your comments, questions and recriminations. 

What makes Catalan culture different? Behold its singular obsession with shitting...

Catalan statehood is in vogue, which leads many to ask: What makes Catalans so unique? This blog has previously covered their vermut for breakfast, super-hot girls in bad haircuts, screwy sounds, etc. But more than anything, it's Catalans' glorification of excrement that proves this to be is a one-of-a-kind people who deserve their own passports — or at least their own secured borders.

Catalan Defecatory Traditions: A Tipsy Pilgrim Ethno-Anthology

Caganer — The Christmas Shitter

Caganers, the peasants always found shitting in Catalan nativity scenes.At Christmas time, nativity scenes spring up in homes, shop windows, town halls, and public plazas throughout Catalonia. In these, alongside the baby Jesus, wise men, etc, there is nearly always a caganer, which translates as a "shitter". The "classic" caganer is a peasant in a red cap with his pants pulled down, squatting proudly over a little brown spiral of doo. Sometimes, for propriety, the figure is set off a ways from the baby Jesus, but you can always find him somewhere. At this point the caganer has been popping up in the region's nativity scenes for hundreds of years, so the Catalan Catholic church quite literally has to put up with his shit. Shops supplying Christmas decorations in Catalonia hawk caganers in countless variations. 

This giant version of the Caganer was set up in a Catalan shopping mall in 2010.The tradition has become a bit emblematic of Christmastime in Catalonia, and now famous politicians, sports stars and other public figures can also be bought in minuture, shitting form. There is also, reportedly, a €150K Catalan export business in variations of these shitting figurines. And they're not always so small; the 19-foot-tall version seen at right was erected in a shopping mall in 2010.

Think this is just a frivolous joke to Catalans? Witness the outcry that resulted in 2005, when the city government failed to include a shitting peasant in the official city nativity scene. The caganer was quickly restored in 2006. 

Pantalons cagatsPantalons Cagats — Shitted Pants

Sure, fashion is transitory and subjective. But I'm at a loss as to how even Catalans find aesthetic joy in brightly colored cotton pants whose crotch hangs and waggles at knee level. And their name for this sartorial atrocity just makes the effect worse; pantalons cagats means "shitted pants". But for Catalans shittiness is apparently a positive state, enough so that they'll even wear such a droopy, de-sexualizing, ugly garment.

Caga tiós on sale in an outdoor market in Barcelona.Caga Tió — The Shitting Christmas Log

Other cultures hang stockings, leave their shoes outside, mount a piñata... there are so many world holidays that offer elaborate excuses to give children candy. The Catalans, for their part, coax their children to hit logs with sticks until they "shit" out treats.

This log is named Caga Tío, or Shitting Log, and he is "fed" a bit each evening in the weeks leading up to Christmas, when the family gathers around him with sticks. Then they sing, ordering him to shit. I know you probably don't believe me, so just watch the video below.

The standard version of the song:

Caga tió!

Caga torró,

avellanes i mató.

Si no cagues bé

et daré un cop de bastó!

Caga tió!

Translation:
Shit, log!
Shit out nougat,
hazelnuts and cheese.
If you don't shit it all out
I'll hit you with this stick!
Shit, log!

When the song is finished, the family reaches under the blanket to see what goodies the Caga Tío has produced for them to eat. 

(By the way, the version of the song in the above video is slightly different. Also, check out how excited the kid gets at the beginning. "Ja ha cagat!" he shouts — "he's already shat!")

Shit-Based Expressions

For good luck, Catalans wish you "a lot of shit" ("molta merda!" = break a leg!). You can be a worrywart who "shits doubts" all the time ("cagadubtes") or you can "shit things up" ("te l'has cagat" = you fucked up). If, on the other hand, you do things very quickly you're "shitting milk" ("cagant llets"), while if you're an "underpants-shitter" ("cagacalces") you're obviously a coward.

Possibly most vexing is the Catalan version of "they're like two peas in a pod". In Catalonia, two very good friends "són com cul i merda", i.e., "they're like ass and shit". It's hardly an expression that begs to be overthought, but you do have to wonder why Catalans conceive of these "friends" as staying together any longer than they might have to.

Candy Poop

Naughty boys and girls don't get coal in Catalonia. The three wise men leave, you guessed it, poop. Candy poop, usually in a toy toilet. It's made of chocolate and marzipan, and presumably indoctrinating children early with faux-coprophagia innocolates them against the natural revulsion they might otherwise feel growing up Catalan with the rest of these traditions. The fake poop, preset in its toy toilet, is available in candy shops at holiday time.

Well, we hope that's enough to turn even a few folks from the Partido Popular into ardent defenders of self-determination for the Catalan people. If not, there's lots more. So visca Catalunya, i independència jà!

Photo credits: Caganers in shop by Oriol Gascon, giant caganer by Rafel Miro, caga tiós by Mose Hayward (under copyright).

Update on Thursday, January 24, 2013 at 11:59AM by Mose Hayward

We've been alerted to two more shitty Catalan expressions:

• Color merda d'oca — "the color of goose shit", i.e., ocher
• Pets de llop — "wolf farts", explosive, fecally malodorous mushrooms that apparently litter the Catalan countryside. In my years in Catalonia, I've never entered the woods, and now, I never will.

An afternoon of tasting top-notch wine for free in Paris

Tipsy Pilgrim recently attended the Salon des Vins des Vignerons Indépendants — The Independent Winemakers' Expo in Paris. This cannot be more highly recommended. 

First, it's free, or pretty much free. Officially, it will run you €6 (worth it), and that goes down to €3 for students or if you arrive in a group of ten. But really, free invites seem to rain down on friends and friends of friends (those with connetions to restaurants or winemakers, or those who have bought wine at the expo in previous years).

At the entrance, you're handed a tasting glass, which serves as your ticket. You then go around to the stands and "sample" wines and brandies from all over France. If you want to stay sober, you can use the spit buckets at your feet at every stand. 

It helps to go in with an objective, as you'll never have time to visit even a tiny fraction of the stands. Do you want to learn about Burgundy reds? Cognacs? Alsacian whites? Picking one area and trying everything you can find from that region or type can be a wonderful education, and the proprietors are only too eager to explain their wares and their methods.

This is also, of course, a great opportunity to stock up on wine directly from producers, and to carefully taste your way through it, rather than relying on fickle reviewers, wine store recommendations, or more limited tastings. Fine wine is an elaborate fiction — there's an enormous variety out there, sure, but finding what you personally like has nothing to do with price or with the fashionability of the terroir or producer. And rather than taking a ridiculous and expensive wine tour of France, attending this expo allows producers from all over the country to come market their wares to you, in one expo hall, in one afternoon.

Check back with the Salon's website for their next event in Paris or the provinces, or check out this elaborate listing of wine expos all over the country (both sites are in French — use Google translate if necessary).