I appeared to be out of the room when passion for kicking pig skin was handed out, so the vuvuzela buzz of the World Cup passed me by without incident and I tend to only feign interest in the all conquering All Blacks when I fear I’m about to be accused of being a bad Kiwi.

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France is sexy, I’m not breaking new ground there. This is the country of Moulin Rouge, lingerie and voulez-vous couche avec moi. Ever since American GI’s came back from the war from torrid adventures with liberated housewives the world has always looked to the French to see what is chic and sexy. Read the rest of this entry »