“Dance, lance, prance, France.” “What ARE you on about?” “Chance, trance, glance…” “Gibberish! Pure. Utter. Gibberish.” “Crance, hance,...

The boys grew up in Germany in a small donut-shaped village on the windiest peninsular in the world. The wind got up each morning before...

France once Left now turning Right gutter ideals sewer mentality growing nasty children thank you family Le Pen we have to encompass the...

Unfortunately, “France” as a prompt didn’t stimulate on its own.  Enter the search engine, but I’m going to need a strange fact.  What to...

Tobit France. What kind of name is that? The name my mother gave me. And the last name a bastard forebear gave himself, probably wanting...

There was a time when I used to travel a lot – I mean snails do a lot of travelling. Most people don’t know that. But, we have houses and very little luggage and food can always be gathered, and eaten on the way. It’s a lovely lifestyle. I remember once after I slithered inside a wooden crate full of yummy lettuce. I munched and munched until I fell asleep, all cosy and warm.   It was a long time in that crate, but with food and dark warmth, it was lovely. I just ate and sle