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Juan Les Pins after sunset

January 24, 2012

So I went to the post office in Mouans Sartoux. I wanted to post some letters, it’s the sort of thing you would expect to be able to do at any post office. Instead I had to wake up a rather sleepy but suddenly officious young lady at an empty counter who pointed towards the automatic stamp issuing machine where a queue reaching out into the street had formed.

I politely suggested that as I was a bit pressed for time to catch my train to last nights Internations event at Juan Les Pins, perhaps she would be good enough to sell me some stamps. She refused, pointed once again at the machine, and the queue stretching out of the door and on to the street half way to Cannes and promptly began to doze off again, as no customers requiring her services were in sight. Indeed I formed the opinion that her sole reason for living was to tell disgruntled punters such as me that the only way to get a stamp is via the machine. The very jobsworth nature she exhibited reminded me of the lack of service one often receives back in the UK, but seldom in my experience in France (with the notable exception of Paris) so it was a shock to find that creeping malaise appearing in France.
However, arriving at the sublime Juan Les Pins at sunset a little early for the event was the perfect antidote as my picture today I hope depicts. Fifteen years ago I would have instead been aboard a commuter train from London, standing up, cold, tired and soaked through from having been rained on. Maybe the Reverend Jeff is right, there is a god.

On my way to work at Juan Les Pins last night

The Internations organisation is dedicated to providing a forum for different nationalities to meet and network and last night out the 50 or so people attending there were some 22 nationalities represented. You may think that this would have been a rather fallow place in which to find buyers for my book, but I did sell a copy but it was of course a very fertile cross-section into which to promote the services of Currencies Direct.

Amongst those with whom I talked last night were the lovely Lorna who told me a gripping tale of why she split up with her boyfriend. It involved a sheep and a hint of mistreatment but I am glossing over the details. Suffice to say there is a gorgeous Irish girl who should not be available who is out there waiting for Mr Right.

After my piece in this column yesterday about my non invitation to celebrate Mr Humphreys (he was free) birthday, he responds to say that the reason he did not invite us was due to the almost certain dangerous escalation of the bar bill. I pointed out that this was an outrageous and entirely justified slur upon that nice lady decorators character but at the same time I have every sympathy with him.

So today I am on airport duty once again this time for Mr Paul Thornton Allan who kindly designed and printed the pull up poster for my book. I feel sure that if he gets enough publicity for his sterling efforts in this column, he will never seek payment of his bill. My only hope is that his steely eyed but nonetheless beautiful wife and co director never gets to hear of it or I am a gonna.

This evening I have a fascinating prospect in store. We have been invited to our French neighbours to discuss drains. Yes, I know what you are thinking; here I am a doyen of the music business, a senior member of the music publishing elite, the head of an award-winning record company and now a successful author reduced to talking about mains drainage in French. I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to it.

Chris France

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Pinman permalink
    January 24, 2012 9:46 am

    “or I am a gonna”

    Are you “gonna” be all right as in Rocket Man…….a “gooner” as in Arsenal….a “GONER:” as in eradicated or just a “gonad” as usual…….??

    Like

    • January 24, 2012 10:27 am

      what are you on? or are you starting to think out loud then write it down? I stand by Gonna, a crude Americanism I admit, but then I am in charge!

      Like

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