The French and the English once settled their bloody differences on the battlefield. That evolved into a love-hate relationship based on mutual mistrust with the French mocking "les rosbifs" and the English lampooning "the frogs".

But now, with interdependence reigning supreme in an ever shrinking global village, the entente could not be more cordiale as Queen Elizabeth prepares to welcome France's flamboyant new President Nicolas Sarkozy to Windsor Castle on Wednesday.

Sarkozy's predecessor Jacques Chirac was renowned for his testy clashes with former British leader Tony Blair.

He said scornfully of the British "you can never trust people with such terrible food" and called Anglo-French relations "a turbulent love affair."

In sharp contrast, Sarkozy has been an open admirer of Britain, praising its buoyant economy and flexible workforce.

And after his turbulent love affair with supermodel Carla Bruni, all eyes will be on France's newly-wed First Lady.

Celebrity-obsessed British tabloids are bound to have a field day covering the woman who counts pop icons Mick Jagger and Eric Clapton among her former lovers.

Sarkozy, nicknamed "President Bling-Bling" for his flashy life style, could not be more different from Blair's successor Gordon Brown, the austere son of a preacher who would not be seen dead in Sarkozy-style ray-ban sunglasses and Rolex watch.

We drive south to Ohio's Hocking Hills often, not only for the challenging byways but also for the roadside amusements.

You'll find Martha Hitler Park and the Pumpkin Festival in Circleville, which is also home to the Ted Lewis Museum. Lewis was the vaudevillian who called himself "the high-hatted tragedian of song" and whose signature line was, "Is everybody happy?"

In Laurelville, there's the world's best cider from Bob Bowers.

There's the Washboard Music Festival in Logan. And on the way down, we can stop in homely Waldo to dine at the G&R Tavern, famous for its bologna sandwiches ($3.50), bologna salad ($2.50), and braunschweiger sandwiches ($2.25).

On a good day, the G&R serves 180 fried-bologna sandwiches, each featuring a half-inch slab of ground, smoked sausage hidden beneath a crush of pickles, tomato wedges, lettuce, and a hunk of onion large enough to choke a longshoreman. Everything is served on paper plates, including the half-pound slices of cream pie. And yes, they pronounce it baloney.

 

As it turned out, the baloney theme was appropriate, because we were evaluating salt-of-the-earth Everyman family sedans, a segment that accounts annually for two million U.S. sales. Each of our competitors was fitted with a DOHC 16-valve four-cylinder engine and an automatic transmission. We aimed for base prices in the $22,000 vicinity, although we wound up with a $4300 variance--a sum sufficient to purchase 1228 bologna sandwiches.