Some corner of a foreign field…

I went to eat in a small ‘French’ restaurant in the town, apparently bought and run by the son of a former governor with allegedly embezzled funds sent from Delhi to fund the former statelet. A French couple entered and ordered their Sunday lunch in French, getting a rough replica of what it might have been at home, but no wine.


I contented myself with English, although there is a very strong Francophile element in the town, and my French might possibly have gone down well, but I had hesitated a little, feeling a reluctance to emphasise the old colonial status.

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