Contrary to many of my countrymen (those with whom I could never identify in any case), I have quite a soft spot for France, and I have lived there for a total of around two years. I am currently reading Merde Actually by Stephen Clarke (the seemingly inferior sequel to A Year in the Merde by the same author). Yes, fiction(ish), I know - not really my thing.
The following passage caught my eye - I was actually living there during the summer in question (2003), and I remember this appearing on the news. I didn't quite make the Marie Antoinette connection at the time:
The first Wednesday in August would be [an ideal time to invade France]. By then, Paris's ruling classes would have left the city. This includes government ministers, who are ensconed in their holiday homes and have all forgotten what politics is. One summer recently, France had a killer heatwave that had old people dropping like flies - especially those who'd been left alone in Paris by families going away - and the few Parisian doctors and nurses who hadn't gone on holiday were begging the Minister of Health to declare an emergency. His reply was basically, well there's a nice breeze here at the seaside, what are you moaning about?
Over two hundred years after the French Revolution, 'Let them eat cake' lives on. Let them buy Evian facial sprays.
Merde Actually - Stephen Clarke
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