L'enfer - c'est les français

Unlike many Englishmen, I like the French. I really do. Especially their women.

I find their joie de vivre, their volubility quite charming. Up to a point.

In small doses, small groups, a French crowd can be fun. But you hit a certain critical mass - I'd say about a dozen or so, for most of Beijing's fairly compact nightlife venues - and the babble suddenly becomes irritating, deafening, oppressive.

Unfortunately, Salud, one of my favourite bars, often has this problem. So does Ginkgo: last Saturday's Marie-Claude gig was ruined by hordes of garrulous Frenchies talking loudly, very LOUDLY throughout.