Cote d’Azur
Reports of the death of the Fifth Republic have been greatly exaggerated. There are no pyramids of moutons morts blocking the Grande Corniche. The gilets jaunes whistle cheerfully as they jet-wash the paving stones of the Promenade des Anglais. And the only fire I have encountered is the one used to flame-grill the delicious Provençal octopus served at my local bistro. — Ned
E BRITISH LOVE to gloat over the moments of collective dyspepsia which erupt periodically among our Gallic neighbours. In clubland, the complacency.