At the moment I’m reading one of those books that makes you laugh out loud at regular intervals and stop at the end of every paragraph wanting to read out that passage, even if you’re on the metro.

It is, applicably enough, called Pardon my French: Unleash your inner Gaul by an author called Charles Timoney, who prefaces it by saying that twenty years ago he decided to spend a year in France. Twenty years later, the year stretches on, and he publishes an almost encyclopaedic guide to all things linguistically and culturally French.

So, needless to say, to spare Guillaume’s ears, I might just be mentioning it every now and then in posts. I’ll try and hold out, but sometimes he just hits the nail right on the head.

For instance, describing the arrondissements (administrative districts) of Paris (for the record, there are twenty, spiralling out clockwise from the first), he pays particular attention to the 16th. For any of you paying particular attention, you’ll know that this is where I am living at the moment. And I quote:

‘The ‘arrondissement’ which seems to have the most famous reputation is the 16ème or seizième. For the 16ème is where the rich people live. While you can find some hugely expensive houses there, it is mostly made up of old-fashioned, well-constructed apartment buildings with magnificent front doors and marble hallways. They are inhabited by rich, chic people who wear their fur coats to walk their little dogs in the Bois de Boulogne.’

Hmm… or pay someone to walk their little dog for them…