Wild Time?

Wild time? she asked, and for a fleeting moment I forgot by advancing years and said, certainly, where and when? It was something of a surprise as we were not alone and it was not the first Saturday in the month but what the heck I thought, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. No, “Wild Thyme” she said with that look that can pierce a hole in steel. I know she loves me and I love her but the look that nice lady decorator keeps in her armoury for special occasions, actually not just for special occasions but for any time I have muttered something which does not find favour is frightening to behold. So no more than four or five times a day then, on a good day. She was referring of course to the abundance of that herb on the hillside where we were taking in the view.
We were walking up a very steep track above Gurdon, exhausting but ultimately providing a sensational panorama from Nice across to St Tropez as I hope my picture today does justice. After a deserved beer, it was back home to change ready for the first social occasion for some days, the birthday of the godlike Zillah, wife of Master Bully Mariner Mundell at one of their many residences, this one in the heights of Opio or Plascassier.

Towards St Tropez from Gourdon

To be able to have lunch outside is a treat whatever time of year it is, but to be able to do it in January is a special bonus, and so it was that nearly 20 grateful ex pats sat outside and enjoyed an eclectic mix of roasted meats, lasagne, quiche, a bean stew and 2 cheeseboards. This was a triumph for variety over planning, which as I assume was undertaken by the Master Mariner himself, was errr…creative to say the least.

When one is asked to bring a dish to a party, the normal thing is to liaise with the host to ensure all food bases are covered and a balanced meal results. Clearly this element of the planning went somewhat awry, but a splendid afternoon and a lovely melee of food was enjoyed by all.

I was hampered somewhat as my blackberry, normally my faithful old note taker decided to run out of power just as lunch commenced. With my memory being what it is many people have escaped (unless memory returns or someone snitches) with faux pas that I would normally gleefully record ready for regurgitated the next morning in this column.

What I do remember is Blind (drunk) Lemon Milsted’s beautiful Scandinavian goddess of a wife Ingeborg fatally undermining his determination not to purchase a copy of my book by buying one and then coming to the table to ask me to sign it. I contend that it was entirely coincidental that I was seated next to him when it happened but I swear he does not believe me. Anyway, I can report that she is thrilled with her purchase and he has a newly grumpy countenance which does not suit him.

The wonderfully 1960’s icon Anthony “Dock Of The” Bay was one of the many attendees along with his beautiful (and very considerably younger) wife Amanda. I made the mistake of complimenting this compelling old smoothie on his wearing of a cravat but was told in no uncertain terms that it was not a cravat but a silk scarf. As a council house boy who may never understand the distinction, I shall be careful not to comment about one or the other in future.

No space to mention today all the reasons why it is important to use Currencies Direct for all your foreign exchange needs, but the week is still young. Maybe tomorrow.

Chris France