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If the future is orange, I am a banana

August 6, 2011

One of my least favourite expeditions is to change mobile phones. It does not matter whether you are in UK or in France , it is always a terrible rigmarole, and such was my fate yesterday morning as I had to spend what seemed like most of the summer at the Orange shop. It was a triple whammy as both children’s phones developed faults within a day of each other and mine stopped texting, possible in sympathy with the French summer holidays, which start in earnest tomorrow thus denying me a full gamut of technological marvels with which to promote the services of Currencies Direct. Thus duty called

A visit to an Orange shop used to be a treat when I was a kid, loads of nice coloured fruit to choose from and a couple of minutes later the job was done. No such luck nowadays, in fact over an hour was spent remonstrating with various orange people with limited satisfaction. Thereafter, a light lunch at home and a swing in the hammock in the sunshine, not resting you understand, but planning.

Earlier, due to the massive swelling that seems to have occurred around my stomach after my recent trip to England for bad stodgy food, and thus the need for rigourous exercise, we partook of a stiff march up and down the hills of the Valmasque forest and along the Brague river where I took this photo.

A bridge across the river Bruguet, a tributary of the Brague

The swelling stomach syndrome began when I was in the north of England with Peachy Butterfield last week. He has developed this syndrome to a far greater extent that I would dare, and he also looks a bit orange as well now I come to think of it. My regular diatribes against life in the north have polarised opinion. There are those that agree with me that polarised is exactly the right adjective to describe this northern hell and the sub polar temperatures that we endured in mid summer, and the ubiquitous tundra, and with little option but to eat and drink to keep out the cold, Peachy has taken to this like, well I was doing to use the metaphor “like a duck to water”, but its more like a pig to its sty (in the nicest possible way). After that tumultuous put down, I suppose I am duty bound to plug his new Facebook and internet phenomenon; Dreembox. It is a website where you can let people know what you might like as a gift, and can be very useful when it comes to birthdays and the like when you have no idea what to get someone. Just search Dreembox on Facebook, or click on the link above, it’s a really good idea.

It was Friday night, and I did not think it would be possible for that nice lady decorator to stay in another night, and so it came to pass. So the quiet evening in turned into drinks at the Menthe Deuce, more drinks at La Kavanou, the wine bar in Valbonne and then an Indian at The Kashmir next door, so not very quiet then. I was uncertain if eating Indian food outside on a warm evening would work, as normally its the kind of meal you seek when its a bit cold, but I can report that it worked well.  The plan had been to take it a bit easy before going into to Cannes today to have lunch on the beach, but once that nice lady decorator has started, she has to finish, so I left her in the web clutching a glass of wine at midnight when the more sensible of us headed to bed.

Chris France

One Comment leave one →
  1. Peachy permalink
    August 6, 2011 1:59 pm

    Why thank you kind Sir !
    (Oh and thank you for the Dreembox plug too – haha !)

    Like

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