Where’s the nearest bar?
Who amongst our party was it that mistook the hypotenuse for a large African animal? To be honest I cannot remember as it was a very big penultimate night out, waving goodbye to Mr Clipboard and family the night before last. I was sufficiently broken as to decide that my skiing was over for the week, a decision taken at around 10.30 after I awoke with the worst hangover I have had in a long time. I hate the taste of Resolve, the hangover cure, but it could not be avoided yesterday morning.
Instead I spent the morning whimpering in the chalet, putting the finishing touches to the soft launch plan for my new book The Valbonne Monologues at Cafe Latin on Friday 15th March at 10.30. This is, of course, a shameless attempt to capture the regular congregation for “church”, the weekly gathering of ex-pats to worship coffee and gossip at this lovely social hub. The owners will know of my plans today so unless they have any objection, put that date in your diary. I am also planning to do the same the next day, Saturday 16th for those amongst the idle rich of Valbonne who have that rare affliction called a job.
Already I have 3 sponsors: the lovely Marina Kulik, who’s painting classes at the Hangar just outside the Valbonne produced the painting that features on the cover, the not nearly so lovely Jeroen Zatt from ABK Properties and of course our very useful Currencies Direct, all within a day of being asked. Others have been also been approached, and I expect to hear from some of them today, Matt, Peter, Lin and Greg, you know who I mean.
It has been so cold overnight that the diesel in the car has gone waxy so I called the breakdown truck after spending half an hour trying to start it. Would you believe that the mechanic arrived, put the key in the ignition and it started. An hour and a half I waited for him, so not a happy bunny.
My picture today is of our Nice Lady Ski Tour Guide, having a week off from her Decorating duties. I did once try to read a piste map but unfortunately it did not end well. I thought those straight black lines were a little too straight, but it turns out those are ski lifts. From that day forward I have been denied maps, which suits me down to the ground.
If the car starts and everything goes according to plan, we will have left Meribel by 10am this morning with the plan of getting to Beaune, where we will stay tonight, in time to find a bar showing the France versus England 6 nations rugby clash. I will speak French just in case England win, which they should but nothing is certain. After losing their first two games in the tournament, I think the French will come out and play. thereafter a last dinner and then the big trek home on Sunday with all the other half- termers returning to work or school.
Those of you who know Mr Clipboard will be unsurprised that to know that he left yesterday without paying his taxes de sejour, the French tourist tax. For some reason of higher mathematics that I do not understand, it became my responsibility to pay on his behalf. I am sure he will explain it to me one day, perhaps when we reconvene (as has been mooted) in Valbonne in mid March for that all important literary sensation, the launch of The Valbonne Monologues.