Buenas noches, Signore homme de fermier.
As you can probably tell by my now fluent French, I have been working hard down in the Charolles for a few months.
In actual fact, I have picked up the local lingo so well that despite the RAF lapel badge, Eton tie clip, bowler hat and umbrella, I am often mistaken for your average Frenchist in the local town.
Back in old angle terry for Christmas, and am trying hard to avoid any form of sobriety during this festive time.
So, donning my onion johnny striped vest and obligatory beret, I will now raise a glass of Macon Rouge and wish you a Buon Natale.