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Paris Plage

Forty minutes. It takes longer to drive to Canterbury but today, I've been over in Le Touquet, taking photos for a Pilot Magazine feature I'm writing for first-time aviators risking the seventeen miles of water between here and Calais and expecting the reward of a bottle of wine at the other end, for getting there without incident.


Mid Channel looking towards Lydd

There's a slide show of the photos here but today I found the Paris Plage resort very quiet and mostly populated by English pensioners and parties of school children on coaches. What struck me most today was how smart, if that's the right word, the French school children looked in their uniforms this afternoon, particularly the image-conscious girls in vivid contrast with their English counterparts who looked like refugees from the BBC's "Grange Hill." Le Touquet is of course a splendidly "Chic" resort, its high street lined by fashionable boutiques and the English tourists don't blend in well with the local population. I did find one exception though, the man in the photograph below who looks characteristically French, it must be the cigarette and perhaps he's a reformed existentialist on holiday.



Back on the great British side of the Channel with the BBC hunting me for a hacker story, the price of good food and wine strikes me as insane and explains why so many people are choosing to leave this country behind them and look for a better quality of life on the other side of the channel. Looking at Le Touquet basking in the sun this afternoon, one can understand why.


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