More mutton mutterings

August 2, 2010

tags: Cote D Azur, Currencies Direct, Ex Pats Golf, Living In France, Moving To France

Sheep. Yes, sheep, that was the subject once again brought up at golf by Steve Weston. We were having a post round beer at the 19th courtesy of Steve Brown who has some kind of job at Royal Mougins Golf Course which requires him to play golf several times a week.

Because of all the practice, he is of course better than most of us, but given the banditry which is par for the course (if you will pardon the expression), with the handicap system, winning never features in Steve’s expectations. I think that point is made best by his shirt which is the subject of my picture today. A losers shirt I’d ever I saw one. He says it is a Norman Greg or something but looks hurt when I suggest he returns it to him as soon as possible.

Steve Brown in shirt so bad that the sun managed to bleach it in this picture. I am also slightly concerned at the rather gay pose. Perhaps Steve Weston shouted "sheep, over there"?

Anyway back to sheep. Steve Weston stalwart of the Landlubbers golf society organised by Dave the Fade, has been outed in the past in this column for his much broadcast love of sheep. Indeed, he even sent me a photo of his favourite sheep which I have gleefully published at least twice.

When discussions turned to sheep (almost inevitably when Steve is around), he is a font of knowledge. He tells us that if you google “sheep”, then the picture of his favourite comes up on the first page.

Now I am not sure about the sexual peccadillos of the rest of my readership, but frankly I am almost certain that no one I know, indeed no one I have ever met, would innocently google “sheep”

Poor Steve Brown, winning the poisoned chalice which is victory in the Landlubbers competition. It means you win 5 euros from every player, but you pay for the drinks for everyone, so with 15 players, the pot stands at 75 euros. The bill was over 120 euros, so I think I will stick with my handicap!

Regarding yesterdays issue, I mentioned the lesser known but still ugly sister of Margaret Beckett. Many of you believe I have confused her with her sister Margaret and they would be right.

From the golf to retrieve my car from Wing Commander Spensley. I have generously swapped my top of the range Mercedes convertible for a some kind of nasty little van for a few days. He was kindly looking after mine for the period I was in UK. I suggested that if he could make use of it whilst I was away for things like picking up the kids, doing a bit of shopping etc then he would be most welcome.

Barcelona!!, that’s where he went, twice. once to deliver Gabriella, one of his children to summer camp and once to collect her.

Perhaps it is my fault, I thought he said Bar sur Loup, about 15 miles away. Anyway the swap was done and the Merc is now safely home with me.

Last night we planned to go to Juan Les Pins to witness a firework display, a feature of the summer season on the Cote d’Azur. Cannes stages fantastic displays by different countries each week through August, will a final on August 24th. A final? A firework display competition? Can anyone join in? Who is the judge? What are the criteria? Who pays for all this? Obviously, trying to stage something like this in the UK would end up being a damp squib. Either the weather would intervene, or the health and safety brigade. Anyway, the camp bar was open a band was playing….so we never made it

Chris France

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