Martin Gillingham, writing for the Independent, looks at whether the French league has as much flair as they'd like the rest of the world to believe...
"Were you to offer me a ticket and trip to the Ernest Wallon I’d bite your hand off. Do the same for Welford Road then I might have to think a little longer before accepting. For starters, the prospect of post-match dinner at a brasserie in the corner of Toulouse’s Place du Capitole is rather more appealing than a kebab in the shadow of HM Prison, Leicester. It’s also a general assumption that 80 minutes of Rouge et Noir is likely to be more entertaining than the traditional fare of biff, bash, bosh dished out across from the local nick by the Tigers.
Indulging in stereotypes, though, can be dangerous."
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