The removals lorry has been blocking the road outside your front door for three hours, and neighbours are getting a tad miffed at having to find an alternative route to the shops. The driver and his lads deal with this on a daily basis, and for them it’s water off a canard’s back - as is driving through the night to France to then unload the whole lot again.  For you however, the excitement of heading off to your new vie francais is morphing into panic as you’ve still got a thousand things to squeeze into the remaining space.

Having decided to invest your hard earned into some French bricks and mortar, you spend many a happy hour scrolling through a thousand property websites. Stumbling upon the odd chateau, you linger lovingly over the photos and ignore the muffled squeals coming from your wallet. You can already picture the crunchy gravel, the peacocks strutting across the manicured lawns and the oohs and ahhs of your family and friends as they arrive. And whilst all of this is harmless (and free) fun, it’s time for a quick reality check.

For those of you subjected to state education in 1960’s Britain and whose children are working their way through the modern French equivalent, good luck. Not for them a bunch of groovily shirted and frequently braless teachers, happy to ignore traditional teaching methods and instead into free expression, roll ups and the occasional half hearted riot. Man. Mais non – for all the frustrations of le system Francais (no one turning up if there’s a hint of snow, scary dinner ladies and an aversion to streaming kids according to their ability), they’re deeply into grammar.