Summers arrival has brought with it blue skies , much needed heat and the first wave of tourists . The parking spaces around the market square now dotted with Dutch and British number plates . Large Jaguars and Volvos interspersed amongst the battered white Citroen and Peugeot vans of the locals . At the cafe all the outside tables are taken by northeners , their pale skin rapidly, and by the look of some of them , painfully , en route to lobster red . The anglo-saxon addiction to sunshine . Wilf settles down next to me in the insurance mans office as we discuss the landslide . He's quite happy to go anywhere just as long as one of us is beside him . After five minutes the family fellow is asleep , on his back , snoring gently . The insurance man , being French , quite used to dogs coming to visit . Business over , Wilf joins me at the bar for a bowl of water and a croissant . His take on this mornings meeting . " The large print giveth, but the small print taketh away " . An old PON's Saturday sagacity .