The Ranting Frenchologist
In which I explain how the French are among the best-mannered people on Earth. At least on paper.
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?
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.
In which a trip to the Abbey of Cluny inspires me to speculate on what My French Life would have been like a millennium or so ago.
In which I confess to a fondness for one of France’s finest products. And then wonder how much fondness I should confess, and to whom...