Winning against les bloody French has always given the English a warm glow. We’ve always had issues with the neighbours but those buggers across the Channel have always been our national ‘derby’ team. The Germans have been particularly annoying in recent history but in reality they are a lot like us (apart from the arrogance, first on the sun-lounger mentality and sense of humour). But anyone’s who’s holidayed in the Dordogne and popped out in the morning to buy 3 baguettes, 5 croissants, some ham and cheese for breakfast and commented on the pleasant landscape and lovely weather without speaking in perfect French knows how sneering they are about we English and our slight mangling of their beautiful language. What’s so wrong with il ne pleut pas comme dans Angleterre? We love France and they hate us. Pourquoi mes amis? Continue reading
Head to head with les coqs
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