Does anyone remember cricket when:-

Players managed to continue batting without having to touch gloves after every boundary and every over?

When the game was played in silence with a little gentle clapping when a boundary was scored?

When spectators were not transvestites and didn’t see the necessity of dressing in ridiculous clothing,encouraged by the BBC.?David Lloyd  at least seems to find it highly amusing.

When players did not wear white lipstick and other make-up?

When the game was played on a pitch and not a track?

When we did not have to put up with the antics of the abysmal “Barmy Army”?

When players could afford to apply a razor to their beards every day ?

If anyone thinks this is an unexciting little   backwater,may I direct you to the www.heraultwhatson.info website which gives details of the major events in the area  every month?August/September is a feast of activities sporting,cultural,gastronomic,musical, and just fun! The real problem is choosing between them, added to which those poor souls who can only holiday here , and don’t live year round in paradise descend to their holiday homes and add to the social round. It is an exciting if exhausting time of year and by the end of August, the prospect of the approaching autumn,a magic season down here, seems increasingly attractive.

A few kilometres from the town of Clermont l’Hérault lies the huge Lake Salagou,extending to 750 hectares.Created between 1964 and 1969,this artificial lake set in magnificent countryside  provides the setting for any number of watersports,sailing,windsurfing,parasailing,kayaking,and of course swimming.Even in the height of summer the numerous creeks around the lake are uncrowded and provide perfect picnic places for those who like to swim with or without swimming costumes! The lake is yet another superb recreational facility in this corner of France which has so much to offer.

Living surrounded by vineyards,the temptations are limitless.A little chilled rosé  on the terrace at lunchtime, sheltered from the searing heat, slips down all too easily and  before you know it the rest of the day has passed in a soporific haze.

However François and Vincent Pugibet of the Domaine  la Colombette just outside Béziers have come up with a solution.They produce a red,white, and rosé wine under the generic name “Plume” in which the alcohol has been reduced to 9% as opposed to the more normal 13% of local wines.Personally I don’t think this really works well for the red wine,but the white and rosé are light refreshing lunchtime drinks which don’t leave you wasted for the rest of the day.It is a pity that other winemakers have not followed their example so that we have a little more choice, but for lazy summer days that do not become too hazy, Plume is highly recommended.

Summer has at last arrived,a little late this year,and it is hot, hot.Friends with holiday homes here arrive,grey and exhausted from their hectic lives in England,to recharge their batteries.The summer routine quickly establishes itself, a few friends over for lunch  after a quick dip in the pool,now 25°C which is just about ideal:soon it may get too hot. Gaspacho and maybe a salade niçoise in the shade,washed down with  chilled rosé or white wine from the local “cave co-opérative”, which produces delightful wines at very modest prices. Talk is of the French team going on strike in South Africa,so very French, and whether Andy Murray will ever win Wimbledon.He has time on his side but we all wish he would cheer up!

When the guests have gone, a lazy afternoon reading by the pool.I have decided that Trollope is the ideal writer to read here in the summer. You get half way through the book and nothing has happened,but the writing and the characterization are exquisite.Or Chris Mullen’s amusing and worrying “A view from the foothills”,an account of the life of a junior minister.It seems that the wonderful television series “Yes Minister” is horribly close to the truth, one of the most entertaining books I have read in a long time.

Summer is of course the time of “fetes”(for some reason  known  only to nerds the circumflex accent will suddenly not insert itself over the “e”), and every village has at least one and often several.Any excuse will do, wine,Occitan music, babies and hydrangeas (no kidding),street theatre,more wine, more music.All have at least two things in common; food usually produced by local people and of course local wines in abundance.As the local Anglophone paper put it “You’ve found heaven without first having to die!”

To the  Chateau de Cassan to watch a performance by the celebrated Russian pianist Nataliya Morozowa playing works by  Bach,Chopin,Borodine,Liszt and Balakirev.Nataliya plays with great skill,passion,and spirit,an electrifying performance.She has that star quality which is a combination,of beauty,elegance,and huge stage presence.We are indeed lucky that every summer she returns  to our little corner of paradise to delight us with her mastery of the piano.I am convinced that with the right agent she could become a big international star.

(I am indebted to Robin Hicks for the photograph of Nataliya.Robin is the founder and enthusiastic editor of WOW! www.heraultwhatson.info,the number one  ”What’s on” website for Anglophones in the area.Mrs.Trellis of Anglesey is a huge fan)

To Paris with some friends(4 comfortable hours on the TGV from Béziers through the huge and beautiful farm that is France), where the Champs Elysées itself had been turned into a farm with grass,various crops, cows and other farm animals.What an amazing idea and what flair the French have!However unfortunately the entire population of Paris had decided to see this amazing site and so all I saw was some grass and part of a cow! The following morning it was streaming traffic as usual.

One of the jewels of Paris is the Sainte- Chappelle and there are concerts there on  summer evenings,highly recommended..We managed to book  and pay for some seats in the morning and in the evening turned up at the appointed hour only to find the chapel full of lawyers for a special mass.(I shall refrain from commenting that no doubt they need it!).Apparently the ticket office had “forgotten” to tell us that there was no concert that evening. Oh la belle France!

We travelled round Paris on the “Batobus” which circulates at 17 minute intervals along the Seine from the Eiffel Tower to the Jardin des Plantes along the left back and returns up the right bank to the Eiffel Tower.For €13 you can hop on and off as many times as you like during the day, a gentle and admirable way to see the magnificent buildings along the river.

It is no wonder that Paris is the most popular city for tourism in the world,closely followed by London and  then somewhat surprisingly Bangkok.

I went to the village Post Office yesterday and a neighbour greeted me with the words”Bonjour, M.Premier Ministre”!

With David Cameron now in Downing Street I should be in a good position to offer Peerages or Knighthoods to anyone interested, for a modest consideration of course.Alternatively for an even more modest commission I  can find you a beautiful house in this little corner of paradise and  the price of properties has fallen by about 15% over the last couple of months due to the increasing strength of the £ sterling.And with property prices still very negotiable now is the time to escape the Great British Deficit.

Last week I went to see this amazing film about the rounding up of the Jews in Paris in 1942  by the French police under orders from the Gestapo and their temporary incarceration in the Vélodrome in Paris, prior to being sent by rail  to a concentration camp. The film is  exquisitely acted particularly by the children, and  is of course extremely harrowing .The scenes in the Vélodrome will live with me forever.

One  inevitably wonders whether the British police would have carried out this terrible task with such alacrity.No doubt the Mosley thugs would have been happy to do so,but we should all be grateful that our police were not put to the test.It is a courageous film for the French to make about what was not  their finest hour, although there are moments in the film which also show the human spirit at its most sublime.

I strongly recommend this film but it is not for the sensitive or the squeamish.

On some house hunting business to Marseillan, a small harbour on the Etang de Thau where the oysters are grown to the delight of all those who like feasting on this mollusc(not me!).As I sat in a café on the harbour  I reflected on how lucky we are to be able to jump into a car and within 50 minutes, driving through sleepy villages basking in the sun, to be by the sea.At this time of year the beaches are deserted and provide miles of sand for bracing walks.

Marseillan is incidentally the home of Noilly Prat,the famous vermouth, which is produced here in the village,and not as I imagined in some enormous distillery on an industrial estate in Marseille.You can tour the production facilities and see the product maturing in casks in the sun just as it did on board ship when it was first invented.