Living less than 600 metres from a large hypermarket naturally meant that during our first years in France we did our shopping there. Supermarket shopping is easy when you don’t know much of the language. We were often asked, “Avez-vous une carte de fidélité?” And after a few weeks we filled in our names on a form and got the said loyalty card. In the UK, every pound spent means 1 point on your card. Not so in French supermarkets. Boots The Chemist used to give a massive 4 points for every pound spent. It came as a shock to find that French supermarkets were far from generous. 1 euro 50 centimes might get you 1 point.

We happily shopped there for 2 years before we suddenly realised that all our accumulated points had disappeared. The customer service desk became almost as frequent a stop as the tills. When I asked where all my ponts had gone, I was shown the line of printing near the bottom of each till receipt. ‘ Date de validité des points 31/10/2011‘ – Its the date when all your points disappear if you haven’t used them. I had therefore lost the past two years of saved points!

The next year, I was determined to get something for my loyalty. I had set my heart on a folding umbrella. I was only 10 points short, so I decided to go and spend 10 euros to get my umbrella. To my surprise no points appeared on my till receipt.That was when I learnt that the minimum spend was 15 euros. Determined not to lose my points for a third year, I went again to spend the required 15 euros. Again, no points appeared on my card. “Non, madame , c’est demain.” I understood that the points were stored on their computer system and only appeared the next time a purchase was made. Yet, another trip was needed. Three trips, three transactions to get my last 10 points. All for a flimsy, paper-thin, Made in China, folding umbrella. Was it worth it? But, I had learnt the idiosyncrasies of French loyalty cards.

I don’t know about you, but after 25 years of marriage, our cutlery set still has knives, forks and spoons, but nearly all of the teaspoons have disappeared. So my next year’s aim was to exchange my points for a set of teaspoons. I had passed the display cabinet many times and seen exactly what I wanted – a set of 6 small spoons. By October, I had accumulated all my points and went to claim my free gift. “Désolé, Madame, il n’en reste plus.” I couldn’t believe that my prize was not only out of stock but also that no more could be ordered because it was near the end of the year. The brochure with all the range of gifts was put on the counter for me to look through. I didn’t have small children any more so I didn’t need any of the cuddly toys. I have all the towels and face cloths that I need – I wanted teaspoons! I have wanted teaspoons for a whole year. How could they could they dangle something before my eyes for 12 months only to take it away at the last minute? In the end I accepted a bottle of wine.

Now I shop at the smaller, cheaper German supermarkets. There are no points, no prizes, but at least I don’t feel cheated, exasperated and annoyed after every visit.