Padstow or Palestine?

Next weekend we are taking Bluebell the camper to Aups. At first I thought that nice lady decorator had blown a fuse; “you want to take a 1969 unreliable old VW camper van up into the Alps?” But it turns out that Aups is in the Var in deepest Provence about an hours drive for a car, nearer two for the camper. We have been invited to a garden lunch over there, so have decided on a bit of camping at the same time, but this most not be taken as any kind of reference to Neil (Mr) Humphrey (who is no doubt free). Talk of camping reminds me that in my music promotion days I once booked a group called Guy Ropes and the Tent Pegs, however, they were nowhere near as good as their name. Guy himself was very camp, and was always a bit intense. The members of his group were also round pegs in square holes if you get my meaning. They were at least a better band than another band I booked around the same time; Lydia Dustbin and the Refuse Collectors.

Yesterday, we were listening to the BBC news and heard an item about the Palestinian border being opened to allow people to leave, but that nice lady mis-heard and asked why people were being allowed to leave Padstow.  She has a point. Perhaps the renegades can bring some of their local Cornish beer with them called Ginger Tosser?

My picture today was taken in Cannes yesterday evening when we took advantage of an offer of a free apartment courtesy of old pal Wayne Brown of FR2day. This is an efficient and cheap way of him giving that nice lady decorator a belated birthday present, but I felt sure there would be the offer to put a sumptuous lunch of his bill at Z Plage. Perhaps he is waiting until this morning to tell us the good news?

Cannes beach close to sun down

It may be a bank holiday in England on Monday, but the wheels of commerce cannot be halted, and so I shall be continuing to follow up all those people whom I met at either Le Tour De Finance or the Internations events in the area last week who are clamouring for more information and application forms to open an account at Currencies Direct in order to save themselves up to 3% on each foreign exchange transfer.

A little sun downer at 42 Le Croisette in Cannes was the precursor for dinner in Le Suchet, the old town part of Cannes, one of my favorite places on earth.My turquoise linen shirt, which I hitherto had been certain was a winner, was replaced by a black shirt at the behest of that nice lady decorator, which proved once again, apparently, that I have no idea when it comes to choosing the correct attire. I don’t think I helped matters by constantly pointing out turquoise shirts being worn by what I considered to be very smartly dressed people as we walked around Cannes. Her opinion, which of course must never been challenged, was the shirt I had chosen did not work. Had she been walking around with the hottest clothes designer in the world, I am sure she would have made him change.

To dinner then in my second choice black shirt, but where to go? In the end despite my several suggestions, an entirely democratic choice was made. You must understand that in these matters, man’s emancipation is still something to look forward to, so no vote for me then, yet. Maybe I should chain myself to some railings in protest? However I suspect that if I did then a week from now I would still be there.

Chris France