The fine art of French rioting

One of the benefits of holidaying during a riot is you feel remarkably safe. Ruffians have no interest in you while they can be having fun at the expense of a much more exciting foe, the police. And besides, there are Lacoste stores to be raided: they have no time for your wallet.

The other major benefit is you can get a table anywhere. We had the best seat in France last week: the first-floor balcony of La Caravelle, an old-school bar overlooking Marseille’s historic port and the perfect vantage point for taking in the fine art of French rioting.

The choreography unfolded in fits and starts. The police vans snaked around the water’s edge in military formation. Out filed the riot cops, their tessellated body armour making them look like mutant woodlice. We spotted a group of skinny masked boys. A wash of smoke. A flash of red. A scurrying of woodlice.