Naked spooning?

Winning at golf is important, and winning 10 euros at the same time is also rewarding. It is a feeling that I know well, but for Charles the spy, our current house guest, it is something he has not experienced in the recent past unlike my good self. Modesty forbids me revealing the scale of the victory, or indeed formally identifying the winner but I think there are sufficient clues for the more intuitive amongst you to work it out. In fact the very mention of a result should be sufficient for most regular readers to know who won.

So after a very successful morning, where it was technically not required to play the last 3 holes (a clue to the scale of the possible defeat suffered by a house guest?), lunch was taken at Chateau Begude, and very good it was too, with the mignons de porc receiving much praise and my “loup entire” also of top quality.

Could you call a drink in Valbonne after lunch a lunch cap? Or maybe a lunch box? If so, then we had a lunch cap or box before our guests retired to the pool and I retired to watch a dominant England destroy India in the 2nd test at Nottingham’s Trent Bridge on Sky TV.

So today I will recommence my commercial work for Currencies Direct, which partly involves rescuing people from their banks when making foreign exchange transfers. As I have been on vacation until today I have not mentioned them at all recently, but as of today this may change.

My picture today is the final one from my trip up north last week. It is once again from a pub called, it seems The Marlbororough. Yes, that is the spelling used. It seems the sign writer went to lunch half way through making the sign and when he returned he forgot about the last two letters he had made before lunch. Perhaps he had lunched well in that very pub?

The sign writers worst nightmare, The Marlbororough pub in Chester

After a very brief siesta, out guests expressed the urge to visit the picturesque square at the centre of  Valbonne’s charm, but it was teeming with tourists and so after a brief look, the younger element headed for a snifter at The Queens Legs whilst the older contingent settled on a couple of bottle of something refreshing at La Kavanou, the wine bar in Valbonne. It may be possible that my readers want to know whether I was in the younger contingent, but I confess I felt it was my duty to guide the older folk to the wine bar.

That nice lady decorator had decided to cook. I had pre knowledge of this and had stocked upon crisps and nibbles in expectation, but surprisingly, she had done quite well,  and had held off from putting absurd amounts of chilli in everything thereby rendering it inedible. I suspect that she had run out of chillies, so for me it was a merciful release,  and for my  blissfully ignorant guests, a lucky escape.

Over dinner, of the themes discussed, I have some notes about a practice called “naked spooning”. I had not previously heard this expression and it conjured up a number of rather alarming images. It was young, beautiful and perfectly proportioned Kate, daughter of Charley the spy who first uttered this expression, accusing her travelling companion, the lovely  Amy (known as Cogs for some strange reason) of this deed. If I had more space today, I would have discussed this activity in more detail; for instance, where do cogs ft into this and what exactly are the mechanics? Thankfully 600 words is up, so maybe tomorrow?

Chris France