THEY have flu jabs in France, much the same as in England. I have had a free flu jab these past three years. You receive an advice through the post, take it to the pharmacy, collect the vial, keep it in the fridge and make an appointment with the district nurse.

The result or the coincidence is that I have managed to avoid the common cold these past three years..

As I suffer from mild emphysema – the result of smoking too long and too often up to my quitting in 1987 – catching a cold means ultimately it will go to the chest and a course of antibiotics invariably follows.

As Christmas approached I was aware of the vomiting and flu bug which had hit the UK, so, armed with a prescription remit, I picked up the injection fluid and placed it in the fridge.

In France they deploy local nurses who give injections, take blood for analysis and various other duties from a base in a village.

In Limousin, I had to travel to a neighbouring village to catch the nurse who operated for 30 minutes from a surgery at 8am every morning.

It worked well enough for when I had a blood test, the doctor had the result in the afternoon and I had a copy posted through to arrive the next morning.

The surgery near our new home is open during the time when most of France closes for lunch – 12.15pm to 1.45pm. I duly called up, armed with the remit and tube, only to be informed I had to get my doctor to sign the remit.

That had not been the case in Limousin, but the French love their paperwork. An appointment was made with the doctor, who tested my blood pressure, listened to heart and lungs and signed the paper. She does that every time you visit.

A couple of lunchtimes later I returned to the nurses’ surgery but no one was in. It was the same the next day and the next.

So I had to set off for the UK without benefit of a flu-jab, but when I dropped our big dog off at the farm at which he usually stays in Limousin, hosts Keith and Irene informed us they would not kiss us because she had experienced a really bad bout of flu and he was having the symptoms.

The receptionist at the hotel en route had the sniffles and, when we got to the UK, I called in to my eldest daughter’s to drop off a collective Christmas present only to find my grandsons at home, suffering from the flu and vomiting bug.

I seemed fated but when catching up on health and news with former colleague Grelle White that lunchtime, I told her of my fears of going down with a problem, as I was feeling vulnerable without the flu jab.

“Try Echinacea,” she suggested and spelt out some of the reported experiences.

Within a minute, I pulled up at a chemist’s, was told that this was the best way to ward off cold symptom and duly invested.

I took three tablets a day and went through the minefield of colds, flu, coughs etc and completed the 18-day trip without a problem.

The first Monday after returning late the previous Friday, I reported to the local surgery where a lady in everyday clothes took the chilled vial, looked at my remit and spotted the date of the doctor’s signature.

“I have been in England,” I explained in my simple French. “I did try before I left.”

She smiled and chuckled as she replied: “I’m sorry. No one was here. I was ill. I had the flu.”