This is the story of a piano concert that caused a family debate that still rumbles on. The seeds of the debate had been sown earlier at a classical music concert in the fifteenth century chapel in Pont-Croix, a village a few miles from our Brittany home. After the concert, my wife and I talked…
No sex please, we’re gerbils
After a poor night's sleep in an hotel in St Malo it was time to catch the ferry home. I had just settled the bill when the young man behind the counter stood up, pointed to a wine glass full of straws and suggested that I serve myself one. I asked him to repeat this remark, which to…
Double trouble
Both Mr B and Mr F are unusual. Not for what they do, but for what they don't do. I have known them as neighbours for well over fifteen years but whenever I see them walking towards me in the street I know they will walk straight by. They will make no attempt to say…
La vache qui ne rit pas
A perplexed Charles de Gaulle once asked “How can one govern a nation that has 246 varieties of cheese?”. That was in 1962. Since then the position for French presidents has worsened. An estimate by their minister of agriculture suggests that the number of cheeses now exceeds 3500, and in late June, on a visit…
Mrs Mole, mother of invention
There is something strangely appealing about the common mole. Indeed, she (and in France moles are generally thought of as female) has enough appeal to make her a fairy-tale favourite amongst children. Apart from her beautiful black pelt she is actually rather ugly with her protuberant fleshy nose, over-large pink front feet and silly short tail. When…
Flight or fright?
It comes as no surprise, to me at least, that during recent trips to Paris there were moments when staircases dominated my thoughts; on one visit the staircase was threatening, on the other it was seductive. Architecture has always fascinated me, indeed, in my early teens it was my dream career and, while there is…
A great escape
In a few days, on the 14 June to be precise, around two thousand men dressed up as soldiers will gather in Naseby, in the heart of England. There, they will form up as two opposing armies and do battle. It will be a festival of make-believe in which these soldiers re-enact a key battle…
Bygone
I come from a chalk-white, sun-streaked street where skinny children stick-rattle and hopscotch away careless summer days. I come from the domain of bus drivers and bricklayers, where ferret-keeping, earth-salty sorts artfully tend their vegetables and their kneeling house wives with scrubbing brush and Vim nag at the linoleum within. I come from…