I wasn’t at all concerned when I opened the curtains one morning recently in the Languedoc, and saw a man in army fatigues with a rifle at the far end of the vineyard. Ah, I said to myself, la chasse has started, I wonder if he’s hunting birds, or hare? Maybe even wild boar? And then I smiled as I wondered if I would be so sanguine if I saw the same sight at the bottom of my garden in England…