Everyone is arriving.
You can tell it from the last two digits that appear on French car number plates: 59 (Nord, the area in and around Lille); 93 (Seine Saint-Denis, but let no one suggest you should therefore mind your valuables); 69 (the Rhone, including Lyon), 44 (Loire Atlantique), 72 (La Sarthe) and, of course, the Dutch, Belgians, Germans and, more than expected given the collapse of sterling, Brits.
Some of these good folk may be Salut! readers. They may also be the people who from now until the end of August will make shopping at Intermarché a bit more stressful.
In a desire to offer a public service to these high season invaders, I warn all against taking too literally the one-way system indicated in the Intermarché car park by reasonably clear direction arrows.
As I remark in this week's East West column in The National, an insistence on driving the wrong way round the car park was, until last week's murder, one of the most antisocial acts you could expect to encounter in Le Lavandou.
It's hardly the most heinous crime in the world. And it is committed mainly by people whose cars bear the 83 suffix, showing them - or at least the cars - to be from Le Lavandou itself or the Var in general.
As I also observe, it may be that you can never hope to be accepted as a real local until you also ignore such trifling details as a one-way road system.
But now it's been drawn to the attention of the people of the UAE, I am sure it will soon stop. Or I'll stop bothering about it. I keep meaning to, but have persuaded myself that one day, one of these clots will cause a prang.
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