There’s a new café in town.  Its name – Café du Parc – is the first remarkable thing, in a place where the number of French speakers can probably be counted easily on one’s fingers (and I, with tattered remnants of schoolboy French, would be one of them).  More interestingly, the café has a sort…

The phone rang.  It was our neighbour, Magda: ‘When are you going to vote?’ ‘Now, we’ll pick you up’.