Accuracy of column questioned

On Friday night before the Wales versus France rugby match, the plan to stay in and prepare for the early start for the game yesterday morning was thrown into disarray by that nice lady decorator who demanded a pint of Guinness early doors.

This began the dismantling of the evenings plans as also in the Queens Legs were old friends and former local residents Paul and Jill Harris on a flying visit back to civilisation from the dank and dreary Midlands. Paul is an insolvency lawyer specialising in fraud, at least that is what he told me. Now call me old-fashioned but a lawyer an expert in fraud? What chance do we have? What next? a policeman expert in theft?, a doctor expert in death?

Also enjoying a pint during happy hour were John and Jude “where is my Baileys” O’Sullivan, all on their way to the Valbonnaise, so it was inevitable that we were destined to join them all. Over dinner, discussion turned to the contents of this column and the enormously symbolic book launch (mine) which will take place on November 7th at the Auberge Provencal in Valbonne Square. When I said that the event was just about sold out, I was told that it was I who had sold out and I agreed, once I had sold my soul to Currencies Direct, I was on a slippery slope. Of course I jest, nothing but good can come from opening an account with this fine foreign exchange specialist.

The accuracy of some of my reporting in this column on the lives of the idle rich in Valbonne was called into question. As regular readers will know, accuracy is not the watchword for this column. It will almost always be replaced by opinion, my opinion, and that opinion will always be influenced by what I consider to be a good story. This was described by Mr O Sullivan as an unfair use of poetic licence but the general feeling amongst the assembled diners was that my licence should have been revoked long before now.

Jude O Sullivan was once again devastated to find that there was no Baileys available at the Valbonnaise and made a comment that she thought I had missed about normally carrying a six-pack of Baileys in her handbag for just this kind of emergency. This is news to me, a six-pack of Baileys? however, if such a convenient packaging breakthrough item does exist it would be a racing certainty that Jude would know about it.

My picture today was taken from D5 looking back at the sunset over the hills looking back towards Mandelieu on the way back to Antibes. I know, it is very artistic, but now that I am involved in artistry of a different sort as an author, you will have to expect more of this arty-farty nonsense in this daily missive. Was it W C Fields who said all art was rubbish?

Sea, I told you.

So as we were both feeling rather shabby yesterday morning, we decided to forego the pleasure of seeing France overcome Wales at The Source and instead stayed in to lick our metaphorical and wine induced wounds, and prepare for another night of revelry at a dinner party last night. I should not reveal the name of our hosts, but seasoned readers will know who it was that was photographed with her mouth sellotaped up to ensure she did not say anything stupid. If you need further hints, then Ieuan their Welsh gardener was also in attendance. A full report on the atrocities will have to wait until Monday, when I have hopefully regained an upright position.

Chris France