They do eat a lot of cheese, some of which smells like pigs droppings. They don't wash their armpits with garlic soap.Going on strike really is the second national participation sport after petanque. And, yes, they do use suppositories.

In his first novel, Stephen Clarke gives a laugh-out-loud account of the pleasures and perils of being a Brit in France.

A Year in the Merde tells you how to get served by the grumpiest Parisian waiter; how to make amournot war; and how not to buy a house in the French countryside.

SEPTEMBRE: Never the deux shall meet

 Why the French distrust all English-speakers,

 and more particularly anyone who can't speak

 French (for example, moi).

OCTORRE: One. foot in the merde

 I visit different parts of Paris, touristy and less

 so, treading in plenty of dog-poop, literal and

 metaphorical.

NOVEMBRE: Make yourself chez moi

 Looking for an apartment. The garret myth -

 shared hole-in-the-floor toilets are "romantic"?

DECEMBRE: God save the cuisine

 With my palate attuned to French cuisine, I

 try my best to get nostalgic about British food.

JANVIER: A maison in the country

 I discover the EU-subsidized quaintness of

 rural France and decide to buy a suspiciously

 cheap cottage.

FEVRIER: Make amour, not war

 Tensions as the Iraq War looms. Meanwhile, a

 girl tries her best to turn me into a Latin lover

 with an intensive course in French sexual

 traditions.

MARS: The joy of suppositories

 I explore France's wildly generous medical

 system, and even try out typical French "treat-

 ment by the back door".

AVRIL: LibertY, egalite, get out of my way

 I find that the French are secretly quite fond

 of English-speakers after all. This is especially

 true of the exotic Florence.

MAI: 1968 and all that

 With countless long weekends, holiday

 allowances to be used up and the inevitable

 strikes, the French know that if you haven't

 finished your year's work by May 1, you're in

 the merde.