Brewski or Bruceski?

After the meeting at the new offices of Currencies Direct on Thursday, new office manager the lovely Cosette suggested what sounded like a Brewski. I think she meant having a beer after work, and I admit I could have mistaken the expression for an Australian expression which I imagine means much the same but is spelled Bruceski. Perhaps Cathie the Culture can help us out with this one? As she (Cossette) is Canadian with French overtones, and thus her English is slightly accented, I am not certain which interpretation was in play, so decided to go for a beer to talk it over with some fellow missionaries at The Australian pub in Sophia Antipolis. I asked the owner about it, but the familiar gallic shrug, that I have come to love told nothing that I wanted to know and all I needed to know.

Last night, after a couple of beers, I had the rare treat of watching television, a sign that the evenings are beginning to draw in, indeed the temperature today was a little cooler, peaking at just 27 degrees, just about perfect then, it has been a little too hot lately. Sad to say that due to our camping trip we will be missing the red radish guerrilla beach event tonight in Cannes. From what I hear there will be a good turnout, maybe next time, if there is one this summer.

Bluebell was resplendent in the sunshine this morning and fully supplied for the camping trip as my picture below shows, and so the next big camping adventure got under way. The trip could not be said to be in tents, in fact it was in Castellane, in the camper van on the route Napoleon, one of the most evocative routes in France, their equivalent of Route 66, probably invented by the chap who invented the brandy of the same name (Napoleon not Route 66). It was the ancient pass leading across the Alps and has some beautiful unspoiled villages along its course and we intend to explore a few of them.

Bluebell, ready to rock, yesterday morning

Before setting off, it was my delightful duty to drive the black Maria as I like to call it, taking Banjo into custody for the weekend. I took my time and was able to savour his naivety as he thought he was going for a walk. Like the condemned man he ate a hearty breakfast but I was able to get him into the vehicle before he was able to play his customary trick of defecating all over my lawn, especially near my hammock. I do hope he will be subjected to hard labour. If I had my way I would throw away the key.

So after in intensive camping experience at the weekend we shall be coming down the mountain on Sunday to ready ourselves for the Bistro Rally, which will no doubt enable me to make the very bad joke.. Ahh Bistro, which of course will not be understood by anyone under 40 or English or not into gravy.

This assumes that the nice lady decorator does not get too cold in Bluebell at the altitude of  900 metres or so, in which case expect some backsliding and an early reappearance near the coast. I did not move to the south of France to endure cold, unless it is on the ski slopes in winter and is accompanied by a nice grappe and a steaming plate of spaghetti bolognaise. Indeed it is quite difficult to envisage that in about 8 weeks time some of the ski resorts will be nearing their seasonal opening. Bring it on I say, its been too hot!

Chris France