SOURCE: "Time for the Return of the Native," in The Spectator, Vol. 266, No. 8495, May 4, 1991, pp. 32-3.

Below, Waugh faults Toujours Provence as patronizing and labored.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, where do I begin? For I too have lived in France and come away from it with a view as different from Peter Mayle's as chalk is from cheese. Or, as he might say, as over-ripe camembert is from processed Edam, for his humour is nothing if not laboured. Listen to this [from Toujours Provence]:

… a large Alsatian appeared from the shadows and inspected my leg thoughtfully. I hoped he'd been fed.

And again, about a stray dog which Mrs Mayle insists on adopting:

The dog sprawled on his back with his legs in the air. By no stretch of the imagination could he be described as heroic, but he was conspicuously masculine, and there and then...