The Dibley Poisoner lives?

For the first time for over two months, it was cool enough to need a sweater close to midnight at the soiree at Tony “I invented the internet” Coombs house on Saturday. As no one was prepared for temperatures dropping as low as 20 degrees, extreme measures were required to keep out the sudden chill. For me however, there is a difference between extreme measures and utter desperation and I invite you to consider which adjective best describes the action being taken to keep warm in my picture today below. I am not certain that I could ever be so cold as to don such an item of clothing unless I was marooned in the frozen wastelands of Northern England, where style is something you find in the corner of a field and you use to climb over a fence.

Anyone remember the film The Three Amigos?

Earlier, as pre-dinner drinks were being served, I just missed a hawk attack in the Coombs garden where the hawk downed a dove, which in turn was attacked by the family cat in the evening sunshine. It seems the cat and the hawk had a tussle, the dove flew away as did the hawk, and thus an opportunity for extra meat on the barbecue was missed. I suggested the cat itself  might provide a tasty snack, but it was not required because Pat Coombs provided some stunning culinary creations of her own. That she did not have all the ingredients for some of the recipes she was following mattered not one jot, as she announced that she had improvised and for a horrible second I was reminded of interesting food matches made by Mrs Cropley in The Vicar of Dibley. Who can forget her ingenious marmite cake, or orange cake with Branston pickle icing?. Anyway, Pat’s startling creations, especially the chorizo prawns were a revelation and astonishingly tasty.

Anyway, back to the photo. Tony was mumbling something about looking a little like Clint Eastwood in his cape, but I am afraid I am more reminded of Benny Hill.

Yesterday, by way of penance for the rich and er.. exotic food and generous supply of wine the night before, that nice lady decorator announced that we needed a proper walk. My suggested stroll into Valbonne to buy a Sunday Times was dismissed, and we (the demonic dunce Banjo, the colossal cocker spaniel, and the benign and obedient – well he would be obedient if he were not all but stone deaf Max, the faithful English springer) were bundled into her car and driven over into the Var to the scene of the Malpasset dam disaster of 1959. Hundreds of people died and the wall of water washed all the way down to Frejus some six miles away wiping out a village on the way. It remains the site of the single worst French natural disaster of the last decade.

This huge dam collapsed 5 years after it was built and it was a fascinating place where pictures were taken. Oon the way back we stopped at Tanneron on the mimosa trail for a beer and to discuss the business and social schedule for the coming week. My work for Currencies Direct will of course be to the fore, and I have several important meetings scheduled, but I must make time for my new project, the wonderful Medina Palms development in Kenya on the famous Watamu Beach.

At least with the onset of cooler weather at last, it will mean less mosquitoes. I saw a sign in a shop over the weekend saying “Mosquito nets 10 euros”. I didn’t know they were allowed to play the lottery?

Chris France