Macdonalds, Guinness and Kebabs in Cannes

June 24, 2010

tags: Cannes, Cote D Azur, Currencies Direct, Ex Pats Golf, Food & wine, fr2day, Living In France, Macdonalds, Moving To France, Red Radish, Valbonne

To Cannes to the Quays Irish pub on the port to watch the football where the mighty England slashed Slovenia to slivers. That’s what I would have liked to write but the truth is that turgid England were mighty lucky to slip past Slovenia. It was a better performance than against Algeria, but that particular performance was a nadir amongst nadirs.

Wayne from FR2DAY has been compelled to take a flat in Cannes due to the number events that he has to attend in his position as Head Honcho (or should it be chief barrowboy) of the on-line lifestyle magazine. With the term Head Honcho in mind, please be aware that Wayne’s has many other hats as my other picture today shows.

Wayne Brown, deciding which hat to wear last night

What a fab position he has chosen as my second picture taken this morning from his third floor terrace shows. It also features an inanimate object, of which more later. The apartment is right in the heart of Le Suquet, the old town close to the market in an old building right on the famous rue Antoine, a stones throw from the port and the Palais.

View to harbour spoiled by horrid dancing toy

With all the fabulous restaurants within 100 yards, probably 50 or so, it defies logic that, with the resident plasterer and the luscious Lucy tired, emotional and asleep after our victory in the football, Wayne and I should search for an establishment serving kebabs, but we did. Something inexplicable happens to ones taste buds and ones sense of judgement after more than several pints of Guinness, and so this morning I have awoken in Cannes with only hazy recollections of events last evening. I do remember the kebab, in fact it is reminding me exactly where it is as I write this on Wayne’s terrace at 8 o clock this morning. I know the time precisely because, as Wayne calls it, his personal alarm clock, has just chimed in the church nearby. It could have been worse, it could have been a mosque with its wailing call to prayers. The in-house decorator who has just awoken to this cacophony believes that is a plot by campanologists (bell ringers Northy, look it up) having a fight in the workplace. Worse was to befall us much later, in fact near midnight, when the munchies returned and Lucy wanted a Macdonald’s, so, yes, with a plethora of great restaurants surrounding us, late lunch and dinner consisted of a kebab and a burger. I am so ashamed.

Old school friend Alan Brydon meets us in the pub and catches up quickly with festivities, although I don’t remember him buying a round, but disappears to the airport having changed his flight to ensure he did not have to buy is lunch today at Lou Fassum. I had made the mistake of thanking him in advance for his treat, and then suddenly important business came up and with flight changed and the sweat of fear mopped from his brow he was gone.

Generous in spirit but never financially, he reminded me that he was part of a group of us at school who were arraigned in front of the headmaster for removing classmate Steven Guntrips’ ham from his sandwich. Alan tried to sell it back to him after we were caught. He also reminded me that I borrowed an HB2 pencil from him in 1971 and had yet to return it! So mentioning that he was in the frame to pay had in retrospect inevitable consequences.

Today the Holland match is being shown on the beach in Cannes on a big screen sponsored by Heineken, so after a full days work by mid morning a meeting with a Swedish lawyer to discuss currency exchange and a gap in the luncheon diary now there is no one to pay for Lou Fassum I should be free to enjoy.

Now, back to the horrible apparition that hove into view last night. I don’t mean the resident plasterer herself, but what she purchased last night from one of the street hawkers, all it seems from Senegal it seems, and shown above.

What is not shown is the white stetsons that both she and Lucy purchased as well. Reminiscent of Kiss Me Quick hats of my youth and equally as vulgar. I do not know what goes on in some peoples minds after a few drinks! Never underestimate the stupidity of large groups of drunk people!

Chris France

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