On Wednesday I spent the day shopping in France and came back with the usual overloaded car full of ‘goodies’.
For once there was a visible security presence this side of the Channel and my car was thoroughly searched on the way out. I’m bloody glad that they did not want to search it on the way back as I would not have been too happy unloading all that food and wine.
I’m always so ‘proud’ of being British when I come across some of my fellow countrymen and women in another part of Europe. Like the couple in the hypermarket who were annoyed that the checkout girl’s command of English was limited, but totally ignored the fact that they did not speak a word of French !
The bunch of drunken ’skinhead’ yobs milling about at the French Eurotunnel terminal on their way back from the ‘riot’ the night before in Lens, really made my day. Not to mention the scruffy assortment of ‘discerning diners’ and their noisey offspring sitting at the debris littered tables in the McDonalds, who obviously much preferred the ambience to that of the little bistro and bar which it 
has replaced.
For some unknown reason on the return journey, my car and a number of others were loaded onto the part of the shuttle normally reserved for high vehicles, which gave me the opportunity to observe another group of delightful young ‘Brits abroad’ as a coach (bus) disgorged it’s load of foulmouthed schoolgirl hookers, or that’s what they appeared to be, judging by the way they were dressed. If they did learn French at school the word ‘chic’ was definitely not in their vocabulary.
Everytime I return from France with it’s ‘high quality of life’, I can’t help but wonder if it would not have been far better for all us ‘rosbifs’ …
… if Napoleon had won the Battle of Waterloo ?
