Launch lunch latest….

It was supposed to be a quiet day, but in the event, approval came swiftly for the launch lunch lurch and all hell let loose. With the confirmation of the special guests, John Otway and Stephen Frost for probably, at least from my point of view, the most important literary event that has ever emerged from Valbonne, it was my duty to ensure that as many of my friends (indeed, both of them) and fans of my daily scribblings  (incidentally still considered “ghastly” by the wingco, as he repeated last evening at tennis) were given the opportunity to attend this glittering affair. Thus I was stuck on the computer all day ensuring that this wonderful news was sent to as many unlucky recipients as possible. The result is that we are nearly 50% capacity after one day and looking to sell out before the weekend.

Bev the biker with cat just behind her. I contend that I was never intending to do any pussy jokes. this is far beneath me

Much help was secured today from one Bev, friend of Viv Frost pictured today, a retired FIFA event manager, used to staging shows for royalty and top international government officials. Clearly this event of such a stature that a woman of her experience was required to iron out the minor technicalities. Her intensive and prolonged browbeating of the poor chap in charge of the Auberge Provencal in Valbonne Square reduced him to a quivering jelly by the time she had finished with him, and she was the single most important factor in confirming all the details today. Her coup de grace was suggesting that the Mayor should be invited. Suddenly doors that were closed swung open. She is a very interesting lady, and at first I was intrigued why she would want to meet me (flattering enough in itself) but why she was wearing a cycle helmet and sports attire. It transpires that she is in training for a cycle around Cuba shortly to raise funds for Murray’s Muscles. You will have to click on this link to find out more! . I remember when I was young that there were several of my contemporaries of the female persuasion who were likened to bikes and for a few seconds the memories of those good old days came flooding back, but I was jolted back to reality as she ran over my foot with her racer. I did manage to get this picture though before she rode off into the mid day sun.

I think it is fitting that my first “gig” will be sold out with people probably queuing around the block in case of a cancellation and indeed I am looking forward to seeing  the ticket touts. I shall be most impressed if they are selling them for any more than 70% of their sale price. If any of you want to come, best to bite the bullet and make an old man happy as soon as possible. By that I mean confirm a reservation. The wingco of course will be utterly unhappy that this column has inspired such passion, but whilst I am happy for passionate love but will settle for passionate hatred, It is passionate ambivalence that would upset me.

Tennis was yet another triumph for the MOGS (mustachioed old gits) last night but dinner afterwards was eschewed for a couple of drinks at the Auberge St Donat. I think the losing side have had a bellyful of my clear and concise descriptions of the MOGS winning streak, and did not welcome the suggestion earlier that we should split up the two weaker players.

All that remains today is for me not to mention Currencies Direct and my job is done.

Chris France