August is here, and in France the silly season, billed as the time of le retour des serpents de mer (cousins, one imagines, of the Loch Ness Monster), is in full swing.

The papers vie for our attention with stories about the difficulties of getting passports renewed, 20km tailbacks on the autoroutes and speculation on whether or not Brigitte Macron, now into her 70th year, will dare be seen in a swimsuit at the Fort de Brégançon, the President’s sumptuous Mediterranean retreat.