Carbon footprint or bumprint?

St Tropez in October is as good as in gets. The burn over to the best known flesh pot in the south of France was reasonably flat, something of a surprise after the wind of Saturday, and the suitable administration of “quells”, a sea sickness relief remedy ensured that the bacon sandwiches, handed out whilst those irritating French decided to upset the English Rugby World Cup aspirations, remained in ones stomach rather than decorating the superstructure of D5. A fabulous day out was the result and it is true, as was suggested, that I shall never have a bad word to say about the naked politician or his lovely wife Dawn whilst we receive the odd invitation to join them aboard. It is also fair to say that those invitations go a long way towards my ambivalent attitude to the regular removal of clothing that is his benchmark as today’s picture below illustrates.

Had to crop this significantly in order to remove the face of the naked politician. Also had to enlarge it somewhat for other reasons that I cannot into here.

I am certain that he just got a little too hot as we sped back from St Tropez burning 400 litres of fuel per hour and that was the only reason he felt it necessary to disrobe. To start with I was concerned about his carbon foot print, but after he sat on that nice lady decorators knee to wrestle the steering from her, that she and I became concerned at another kind of footprint (or bumprint?) and the effect it may have on her nice white leggings. A quick inspection after we returned to port laid this particular worry to rest, together with about 20 bottles of champagne and rose which were also laid to rest on the trip.

Today I must turn my attention to golf.  The Landlubbers summer eclectic competition reaches it climax and although to win I will require 18 holes in one and some poor results from the leaders of the competition in order to finish in the top 3, you will know that I will be giving it my best shot, or shots. That I cannot win would be a given for most people but in a John Otway-esque display of pure hope, I shall be doing my best and hoping for a miracle. The golf will take place at the Grande Bastide in Plascassier after which we are invited to dinner at the literary launch HQ in Valbonne.

A miracle is what seems to be happening for the paperback launch of my book “Summer In The Cote d’Azur” which takes place at the Auberge Provencal on 7th November. Currencies Direct have agreed to sponsor some wine and 80% of the tickets have already sold, and in no way can those sales be attributed to my special guests John Otway or Stephen Frost as both are comparatively unknown in Valbonne whereas I am of course equally unknown everywhere. The paperback is already sought after, a fact I can confirm as today when on our way back from St Tropez, Pete Bennett of Blue Water told me that he wanted to buy a batch of my books as Christmas presents for his clients. This seems to me to be a very good way of reducing his client base, but I admit to being flattered until he said that it was cheaper to buy my book than give away a decent bottle of wine, and also easier to handle.

That I must journey to the Var on Wednesday to be seen at the financial seminar being staged by local independent financial advisor, the hirsute Mike Lorimer at the St Endreol will be exercising my mind. That I shall have to be there in place by 9am will be exercising my body in equal measure.

Chris France