Whodunnit? no idea

Lunch with a Larry Smith in London was always going to be a big ask before going out in the evening for the 20th wedding anniversary “celebrations” to see Agatha Christies “The Mousetrap” in London’s theatre land. Perhaps if I had remained awake for the full period of the play I may have found out whodunnit, so now that nice lady decorator has an excuse to put me through this whole saga (very operative word) again, although perhaps not before our 30th wedding anniversary if I get my way.

So Mr John Otway will be joining us on the flight back to civilisation today. We have a great deal to discuss, deal being the operative word, I wonder what kind of naff deal I will be offered for having the honour of helping him to make the film of his life? His first action upon his deciding on the making of his film (about him) was to book The Odeon Leicester Square for the premier on October 7th 2012. I would venture to suggest that most people embarked on such a folly would be more likely to finalise the filming before booking the premier. When I tackled him about this he asked me if I had seen the balcony outside the cinema, and had I considered what a great photo opportunity would be presented by his posing on this balcony? I admitted that I had not, so later in the day yesterday I sauntered past. It was fair point which I have now taken on board.

This evening there is a fair chance you will find us in Valbonne Square, where I want to show Otway the venue, The Auberge Provencal, for my soon to be triumphant book launch on 7th November. At present you can get an advance peek at the content if you have a Kindle as it is available as an ebook. As regular readers will know Otway has been press-ganged into trying to give me launch lunch some credibility. He has, after all, published two books himself, in which incidentally I am seriously libelled, so the presence of a published author may help.

My picture today was taken in sunny England a few days ago. Yes, it is a strange concept and apparently it was the hottest October day in England since  records began yesterday. This caused the wearing of bikinis and see through blouses, but I am the first to admit they do not suit me.

England experiences summer in autumn

Tomorrow in all likelihood we will take the train to Juan Les Pins for lunch. Mr Otway is keen to go there because in his s et he regularly massacres Peter Sarstead’s song “Where Do You Go To My Lovely” which has the memorable line about going to Juan Le Pins and he fancies a short clip in his film of him visiting. That lunch on the beach will follow is a bit like predicting night will follow day. I think Le Petite Plage is the most likely venue.

Then from Tuesday on, I must settle back into work with Currencies Direct and Medina Palms whilst trying to regain control of my body which has been fiercely attacked by English beer and fatty English food and needs some tender loving care. Boot camp has been mentioned in some quarters, but I have never been a fan of boots or indeed the camp, so I feel it is not for me. I shall as usual exercise great restraint when it comes to consuming alcohol in those coming days, coupled with a  strenuous series of walks in the lovely autumnal Valmasque Forest, which in my opinion, will be sufficient for me to regain my god like figure for whenever the call comes for my nude modelling assignment with Marina Kulik’s painting class.

Chris France