French politesse, lesson two: the written rituals
In which I explain how the French are among the best-mannered people on Earth. At least on paper.
In which I explain how the French are among the best-mannered people on Earth. At least on paper.
In which I examine the ins, the outs and the treacherous culs-de-sac of French politesse.
The Roman city was dubbed Lutetia, which the Gauls, who even then couldn’t be bothered to pronounce the final syllables of most words, immediately shortened to Lutèce. It spread out south from the Seine, covering the area now occupied by landmarks like the Sorbonne, the Jardins de Luxembourg and the restaurant Polidor, whose toilet dates from this period.
In which I brave the treacherous quagmire of the French fiscal system, and emerge sadder but wiser. Or do I mean sadder but more of a wiseass?
French social charges for the blissfully ignorant For the benefit [...]
Getting a shock from my charges Of course, just as [...]
In which I summon up the ghosts of French post offices past — one of those things that were definitely worse in the good old days.
The French disconnection: division of labor, multiplication of wait times. [...]
Post office of the living dead This tended to encourage [...]
Founded in 910 AD, the Abbey of Cluny was Europe’s [...]