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Waterproof, as long it doesn’t rain

March 17, 2011

That nice lady decorator is trying to kill me. “Take that waterproof jacket in the hall, then you can walk the dogs” she said from the comparatively dry place that is called England. This was after I had told her that it was a monsoon here and perhaps I should just stay in my kennel and work? Regular readers will realise that the words “choice” and “your” do not sit happily together in my household.

So I went for a walk, where I took the picture below. The label on the jacket she had suggested I wear said “waterproof” but obviously the rest of the label had been torn off; the bit that said, “unless you are stupid enough to go out in heavy rain and expect to stay dry, sucker”. By the time I got back, I needed a shower just to dry off a bit.

"Just hop over them" that nice lady decorator said. I said if Banjo goes first, then I'm there...

But it was worse than that. I was just nearing the end of the walk, dripping wet, but glad that the car was almost within sight. The picture shows where, towards the end of the walk, there are stepping-stones back over the river Brague back to the car. Clearly, the river was too high to cross, swirling over the stepping-stones normally three feet above the flow, so I had little choice but to retrace my steps all of 2 miles in a monsoon. I thought maybe Banjo could make it, but to be fair, he was not keen, even to get the ball that I helpfully tossed over to the other side of the stream as encouragement.

When I remonstrated with that nice lady decorator, sitting in her deck chair with her sunglasses on in the garden in balmy Weston Turville, near Aylesbury, she patiently (which is a rarity in itself) pointed out to me that it was I who had told her that it had been raining hard, therefore there was more water around than usual, therefore the streams might be a bit fuller than normal and therefore the river might be a raging torrent, and hadn’t I thought about that before I set off?

On the forum page at Angloinfo is an open invitation to attend a St Patricks day celebration in Valbonne Square at 6pm on Thursday, the day itself. Chris, the guy who seems to be organising it has not made clear who is buying the drinks, but I have high hopes…Perhaps all of us English should also go to start the celebrations for the Grand Slam on Saturday? I know I will be there….Look out for a beautiful, tall well endowed Irish girl clutching a litre bottle of Baileys, or perhaps pushing a supermarket trolley with several bottles, it could be Jude O Sullivan.

Of course, this is all dependent upon my ark being ready to sail by then and I think they have an ark berth outside the Kashmir Indian restaurant for later on. Perhaps I should book one. Clearly Karin, proprietor of La Kavanou, the new wine bar in Valbonne, had advanced warning of the weather and has wisely closed for the week.

Preparations are well advanced for the “year of the blog” as Al Stewart may have described it, on Tuesday, although I will be in London on that day, taking a brief respite from the interminable rain, and conducting important negotiations with Currencies Direct for the benefit of all the ex pats in the area. I was distressed to find that BA no longer offer first class on the route to London, so I suppose I will have to slum it in Club, what a bitter disappointment. Three days should be enough to get me screaming to come home.

Chris France

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