'Sacre bleu!' The government has resigned, en bloc. Panic. 1789 all over again. I peered out the window in some trepidation, expecting to see anarchic riots on the village streets. What was that creaking noise? Could it be the sound of the approaching tumbrils as they arrive to cart away those pesky expats? Mais non. All is calm. The creaking noise was only the usual sound of our wooden volets banging against the crepi walls as we unlatch the nighttime pins. That distant cackling sound was not the rising tide of gallic dissent, merely the white turkey-like creatures pecking in our neighbouring field.
So, what's going on? Surely Sarkozy can't rule all by himself, can he? Well, no. French government moves in mysterious ways. It's apparently standard practice, ahead of a cabinet reshuffle, for the PM and government to 'resign' before some being re-elected again. It's like applying for your own job only to be shocked later to find out that somone younger and more beautiful has got your 'cast iron, totally secure job'. Let's hope that new, young Robespierre doesn't get the job!
When will I understand all things French? Never, probably. In the meantime, man the barricades and cancel that trip to the Bastille in Paris. C'est la revolution!