forget? Hunters aren't just being cheeky when they invade your land, they are entitled to do so. The land - le terroir - is rightfully theirs. The truth is, when you do meet your neighbours, they're likely to be wearing camouflage fatigues and heavily armed.

When your neighbours aren't trying to shoot your dog, steal your truffles (let's not go there) or rip you off, you may be tempted to practise your French. Forget it - they will haughtily correct your pronunciation and inhibit you for life. (Though you're doomed if you don't; they'll pretend not to speak a word of English, a classic French trick.)

One moonless night, in the depths of the hunting season, we were woken by a sepulchral wailing. My husband ventured out and traced the horrible sound to a hunting dog gone astray. The poor creature had fallen into a neighbour's freezing

swimming pool. He dragged the dog, already rock-solid, out of the pool and wrapped his body around the dying animal, massaging it back to life. It was another English neighbour (of course) who sprang to action, driving them to the emergency vet, my husband still hugging the dog. It lived to hunt another day.

The owner of the dog was a French neighbour. Did he appear the next morning, a la Peter Mayle, glowing with gratitude, with a bottle of burgundy and a slab of home-made foie-gras? Did his adorable rosy-cheeked wife arrive, arms laden with warm crepes? Certainly not.

Want to make friends with the French? Buy a house that needs doing up and that'll keep the locals employed for years. Spend money regularly in your local butcher, patisserie and grocer. They'll be your new best friends - until you leave.