It would be a sort of bilious green. With some purple. I’ve just got back from a five-day jaunt in Edinburugh (it would have been less if Ryanair hadn’t gone all petulent over flight timings) watching the rugby with some French friends. It was...

The good burghers of Le Langon awoke this morning, yawned, scratched their bums, and opened the shutters to a beautiful, crisp, frosty morning. Despite the brilliant sunshine which promises to bring a peach of a Sunday, as they descended the stairs to...

It is a scene repeated all over France on any given Friday night. Groups of shifty-looking, unshaven men in work clothes gather discretely at remote locations to plot and plan, and this village is no different. But we weren’t planning the overthrow...

I’ve added a new page to this blog. Probably unwisely, I have decided to share with the world a little story that has been going around in my head for a while now. I’ll be doing it installments, which should take me a few weeks. It is called (until I...

In the event, no-one won. It might be wondered how in a straight contest between only two candidates it would be possible for neither to achieve the required overall majority. A draw of course is always a possibility, albeit an unlikely one, but in...