The cases of Nutella and Fraise (Strawberry) not being allowed as legal French names – as referred to in last week’s column - caused me to realise I have reached the age of 73 without appreciating that in some countries you do not have the freedom in this respect, which is enjoyed in the UK.

In Denmark, for instance, there is a state list of 3,000 boys’ names and 4,000 girls’ names from which a parent can choose – the imbalance hinting at gender favouritism. There is an even narrower choice in Iceland but apparently the Danes are beginning to relax their controls.

A couple wished to call their daughter Molli Malou, which was, surprise, surprise, not on the official approved list.

The couple were asked to apply with a letter explaining why they wished to use these names. As bureaucracy is the province of thousands of faceless Individuals, often overwhelmed by their own importance, I did think the parents’ approach to the problem was lacking in a degree of tact and more likely to antagonise than persuade. They wrote something along the lines of: “Here is your silly letter. We have chosen the names, would you believe, because we like them.”

The irony is that despite ridiculing the process, permission was given.

As I mentioned previously, parents in France were encouraged to name their children from a list of established saints. They could use derivatives but basically they had to stick to the saints until the law was relaxed slightly in 1966 and you could then include mythical figures. Even so, the officials are told to consider the well-being of the child.

In 1993 there was a further relaxation for hitherto the surname had to be the father’s and if he was unknown, only then could the mother’s be used. Now they can use father or mother’s name or a combination of both as long as it does not stretch beyond two words. So if Mr Curtis-Phillips marries Miss Campbell-Hopkins and they have a child, they can only chose two names from the four, if they opt for an amalgam.

We were chatting about the Nutella impasse with our Anglo-Polish friends in the village: Izza and John. They had moved out to this neck of the woods around the time we had become established in Limousin, and having been educated in Poland, Izza made a relatively seamless transfer to French. However, she spent some 40 years in the UK, so she is familiar with all three countries.

They told us that there is a village just outside Tunbridge Wells where the children in one household are named Antarctica, Europa, Asia, India and America and, further, I am reliably informed, Australia is about to be born but they could change it to Australasia.

After a very pleasant meal, Izza offered me a Polish beverage: Malinowka, which has a couple of dots over the ‘O’ and is pronounced malin-ooffcar. After a couple of wine glasses of this extremely palatable raspberry-based drink you tend to blur the two dots over the ‘o’ and imagine a few dots before the eyes. There is no surprise there: it is 95 per cent proof and, understandably, home-made from spirit readily obtainable in Poland but not so in France.

In fact, after a couple of glasses, the concept of calling your daughter Nutella does not seem so bad and Malin-ooffcar flows endearingly off the tongue. But you cannot use the name for a daughter in Poland. That is forbidden. However, in rural Poland you can name your daughter Malina – raspberry - while in France you cannot call your daughter Fraise (strawberry).

It is a strange world in which one man’s meat is another’s poisson, The French find it funny that my name is shortened to Oli, which sounds similar to au lit (go to bed, in French) and one of our grand-daughters is named Rhian, which the French find even more surprising. It sounds exactly the same as the word for Nothing, in French: rien.

However, I read that in the USA, some children are named Ima or Wanna. Apparently, this is particularly prevalent among those families with the surname Mann, Pigg or Hoare. A touch of “A boy named Sue” syndrome, I suppose. With that I will leave you with your imagination, thinking up surnames for Ima and Wanna.

Yes, I thought of that one too.