Hamish Champ: "The French, pubs and darts

By Hamish Champ

- Last updated on GMT

Related tags Charles wells Public house

A glass of claret or a pint of cask ale? Fois gras or bangers and mash? Arsene Wegner or Sam Allardyce? The stark differences between the French and...

A glass of claret or a pint of cask ale? Fois gras or bangers and mash? Arsene Wegner or Sam Allardyce? The stark differences between the French and the British are all-too familiar.

Yet it appears the French are warming to the presence in their backyard of one of our greatest cultural inventions: the pub.

That said, when I visited Toulouse last week with brewer Charles Wells to check out the two pubs they operate in that rather fine city I wasn't sure what to expect. After all, many British 'pubs' on the Continent are quite awful; little more than bolt-holes for xenophobic expats.

Whatever pre-conceptions I'd taken with me, I hadn't reckoned on finding both pubs bustling with young Frenchies - students, presumably - embracing the concept of a traditional British boozer with Gallic gusto.

On the outside the Charles Wells pubs didn't look at all... pub-like. But on the inside they looked and smelled for all the world like the genuine article. At least, like the genuine article did before July 1. French bars and restaurants don't go smoke-free until the start of 2008, so the fug-like atmosphere delighted the smokers in our party. It merely reminded me why I prefer my pubs sans fumer​.

So why were they full of the aforementioned young French types? I guess they're happier embracing culture Anglais​ than their parents' generation, and see an English-style pub in their midst as an attractive point of difference.

Charles Wells, meanwhile, is attracted by the tidy level of return it can make on its four French sites, thanks in part to a long-established regime that favours tenant over landlord. The irony of this situation compared with what goes on at home was not lost on the boys and girls from Bedford.

The biggest shock of the trip, however, was the enthusiasm with which the French have taken to that most English of pub games: darts. One bespectacled, pony-tailed yoof even had the temerity to send me packing in a game of 'Killer', the cheeky singe​.

I do, however, recall we beat the French in a far more important game of 'arrows'. Agincourt it was, 1415. A long time ago, I'll grant you, but they all count…

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