THERE are a great many words that cross the cultural divide between France and England - and others that struggle a bit.

Some expressions, such as bon appétit, don't have a translation, because people get the drift without feeling the need to translate. Other words and phrases just simply don't have a translation. For example, bêtise.

This is a commonly-used word which can mean a childish prank but is more often used to describe a stupid error or mistake. The best way to translate it into English terms would be to describe it as the kind of occurrence which makes the phlegmatic Englishman say "oops", in the way that Nick Leeson would have done upon the collapse of Barings bank. It is just a bit more than a standard "cock-up".

An employee of Airbus produced a bêtise of some magnitude last week. Testing the engines on a brand-new Airbus 340, he knocked the handbrake off by accident, completely totalling many millions of euros' worth of airplane just prior to delivery. I was sent pictures of the obliterated Airbus; I laughed a bit and then forwarded them on to my friend and colleague Guillaume, who is quite well-known for his own formidable accident record. I even went to the trouble of scribing a short line to him saying that he was no longer the king of the bêtise.

Guillaume's propensity for the bêtise seems to lie somewhere deep within his genetic make-up. He has an inherent inability to foresee the consequence in the future of actions carried out in the present. This can range from cutting the plank that he is stood upon to applying the brakes on a snow-covered road and rolling halfway down a mountain until being brought up short by a huge boulder. This lack of prescience is compounded by his stressed nature - he is constantly anxious and slightly hyperactive - a condition made worse recently by the works being carried out to his new home and the looming deadline for moving in.

One of his biggest stresses has been digging a long trench for the services. He started to dig the trench and his digger overheated. So he got it fixed, and when it was ready, borrowed Trev's van and trailer to pick it up from the garage. He got back to site, drove down the hill, stopped the van and started to unload the digger.

At this point I need to explain that the van and the three tons that a digger and trailer are comprised of were facing downhill, with the handbrake holding the whole thing in place. As Guillaume began to drive the digger off the trailer and on to the ramps, the back of the trailer end went down, so the front end went up, lifting the back end of the van up and the back wheels of the van off the ground. That would be the wheels that the handbrake operates on.

Coming out of the building opposite, I saw the whole incident unfolding before me in slow motion as the combination gathered speed downhill. Guillaume jumped free. A young lad who was working on site tried to jump in the cab to stop it, slipped and fell. He was very nearly flattened before the van turned itself and planted a front wheel in the trench before the trailer that was controlling the whole thing turned it around and crunched into the side of it, narrowly missing the young lad.

Thankfully nobody was hurt. Some metal was bent, and Guillaume has regained his crown as our very own Roi de la bêtise.