From Wilfs position on the first floor he could look through the balustrade to see who was entering and leaving the hotel. This activity and the onerous responsibility that went with it kept him fully occupied for the full three hours that we were in the dining room. From time to time he would cast a half reproachful glance through the French doors in our direction until another member of staff arrived and he would reprise his ' I'm an orphan, please feed me' routine . Being France none of the other diners thought that this behaviour on the part of dog, staff or owners was in the slightest bit strange. Quite a difference from Scotland where the presence of a dog in a hotel would cause much tutting and murmuring about health, cleanliness and sanitation.
Dinner started with a preamble that " dining in the restaurant was like eating with friends. There would be no menu, the chef would just serve the freshest of todays produce. However, if we had any allergies then we should let the kitchen know and it would be taken into account". My response ' Aye, I'm allergic to the prices' elicited a quick kick on the ankle from 'the font' and a blank, unhumoured look from the maitre'd.