Living close to the beach promised long, relaxing days, reclining peacefully and contemplating life, not prolonged screeching and jumping along the sand with a live crustacean taking residence in your pants.
Life in France for Viv is not what was expected. Perception based upon memory and recall alone is just not up to scratch. Who knew about the live lions parked in open containers in rural car parks. What about the monkeys tethered to grass verges eyeing you suspiciously? Why do horses have their heads poked through town house kitchen windows? Are they hoping for sustenance for the long night ahead? Just what is this obsession with drains blowing smoke up sewage pipes and making the colour of water especially grey? And just because there is a bus stop, can it be presumed that any type of vehicle has ever stopped there? Residence in rural France might just be a tad more tricky than first anticipated.
