At least it is not just us.
Initially, we wondered what we had done at the house to attract not just a few gaily coloured butterflies, which present a welcome enough sight, but also countless creatures that look like common or garden moths but apparently glory under the name papillons de nuit.
They are especially busy around our heads when we sit on the terrace for lunch but also invade the house, preferring to settle on walls or fly straight into windows than to fly out when the windows are opened for them. Mme Salut! has decided that this makes them quite stupid.
We were a little reassured to find that it was the same wherever we went in Le Lavandou. The supermarket car park, the narrow streets behind
the seafront, the car salesman's office at the garage where we were reflecting on a possible car purchase (of which more one day not too distant) and the bank (a visit forcement related to the last item).
In other words, they're everywhere.
The delightful lady dealing with our modest financial affairs at BNP Paribas had further words of reassurance.
"It was even worse a couple of winters ago," she said. "We had a mass invasion of frogs, really quite big ones."
Knowing how hard times have been for French restaurateurs, I am not sure I would have enjoyed the spectacle of thousands of one-legged frogs, perhaps on crutches, hopping nervously about town after having one limb each removed for culinary purposes.
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