Accents are mysteriously tenacious. When I'm advising my husband (in English) about his health and well-being on his weekend visits to me, I suddenly find myself speaking with an Irish accent. This must be because I'm channelling my Irish mother!
And when I'm a bit cross, I can suddenly sound rather 'Cockney' (from my childhood in Middlesex during the fifties).
I also tend to speak to people who have a distinct accent by subconsciously copying them. There's a Geordie chap down the road who's delightful, and I find myself saying, "Eeeh!" "Haway!" etc. (My father was a Geordie).
Lastly, there's a Scots lady who walks her dogs past my house, and I break into Broad Glasgae when talking to her. Luckily she laughs, and doesn't assume I'm taking the mickey.
As a small child I often spoke to my astonished mother in a strange language which I told her was "African". Premonition?
I absolutely love accents and languages.