The French have always fascinated the English and the two countries have had a long love hate relationship for at least a thousand years. It would shock nobody were we to discover that coastal Gauls and wode wearing south coast Britons were hearty rivals even 2 millennia ago. Wode apparently tells us that Britons were by no means barbaric, even if they did wear beards, and Britons have been a civilizing force in the world ever since; and Rome’s great feats of engineering made by slaves recruited from the north of Hadrian’s wall.
This year’s visit to Yorkshire by the Tour de France, France, of course, being just another Riding of Yorkshire, is an opportunity to tell our French cousins how much we love them but that we are not taking the depredations of William of Normandy lying down.
However, we Britons are fascinated by Paris, enjoying the romance of this living museum of another great civilization, and we crawl all over the south of France with great enthusiasm.
Please enjoy this eclectic compilation of poems and short stories that tell our French cousins in no uncertain terms that we love them dearly but please go home before the larder is empty. When we’re hungry we can get reet fratchy.