Pomegranates versus seagulls

I hear from long time follower of this column Mr Humphrey’s, who, as he called me is presumably free, who was excitedly talking about the options following the success of my book launch on November 7th. That he is anxious to attend and has secured already his reservation surprised me somewhat. The discussion was about the almost inevitable film of the book that may even beat Mr Otway to the Odeon Leicester Square in my dreams. I said that I wanted to have Brad Pitt play me, as long as he could get the “Sarf London” accent which creeps into my speech when I am either excited or drunk, which at the moment is most of the time. Mr Humphrey’s ventured the opinion that if there was a film about the book in which he features he was going to play himself. This would mark a sea change in the man who lives an exotic lifestyle with no visible means of financial support except for the many sales of the wonderful paintings of his beautiful TV presenter wife Helen Humphrey. I have often noted that work did not seem to be a concept that he grasped entirely, so it was a surprise when he volunteered his services, even if it was for entirely selfish motives. It became clear that his vision for the film was more  “Sex In The City” in style whereas I pointed out to him that given our respective ages it was more likely to be more “Paunch in Provence”.

I thought it was that time of year when I should concentrate on the summer that is coming to an end and the autumnal influences that are gradually being felt. Today for instance, my picture is of the progress made by my pomegranates. I know this does not really compare with the picture earlier this week of the naked politician being pecked by a seagull, but it is worthy in its own right, if only to give some light and shade to the entertainment value offered in this column. Some days its poor, some days its poorer.

Pomegranates nearing perfection

Today, I must once again miss church at Cafe Latin as I have urgent business to attend to in Cannes in respect of Currencies Direct and Medina Palms. I don’t know if I have mentioned it before but I can save you up to 3% on your foreign exchange transfers if you are still using your bank, but I digress. I wanted to illustrate that I am gainfully employed, well employed anyway, the gainful bit is less certain, and that I was diligently going about my business in a sensible and time efficient fashion, Obviously lunch cancels out a good deal of the day and no one of any stature starts work until around 11.00 and with the nights drawing in I find that the intensity of my activities needs to increase still further, if that is possible.

The big day on the horizon is of course Saturday. from Antibes to St Tropez on the 78ft D5 London offers possible the best form of travel that can be had. Lunch will be taken at Cinquante Cinq, the favoured eaterie of the rich and famous, and the reason we are going there, being that we would all like to be either rich or famous, whereas the naked politician whose boat it is seems happy being rich and infamous. I like the fact that the restaurant apparently has its own jetty, which I though was slang for a jet ski until I recently became a sailor. Presumably there is a reason for the jetty, but other than for posing value, which I myself am more than happy to accommodate I can see no value.

Chris France