Don’t pardon the French

I’m on holiday in France for the first time in nine years and I’d forgotten how lovely it is. The food, the architecture, the scenery — it’s all exquisite. Indeed, I’d be tempted to move here permanently in spite of the 75 per cent tax rate were it not for the country’s single flaw: it’s full of French people.

Oh my, but they’re ghastly. Not all of them, obviously. No doubt there are some nice French people in France. I just haven’t met any on this holiday.

Our first bad experience was on the Paris Métro. We’d been led to believe we could change trains in Paris within a 50-minute window, even though it meant getting from the Gare du Nord to the Gare de Lyon. A taxi was out because the line at the Gare du Nord was too long so we took the subway. Unfortunately, the line which connects the two stations was closed and that meant changing, but we would have made it were it not for our fellow passengers.