The most expensive cherries in the world?
April 5, 2012
I hate italics but for some reason the italic button will not work today so everything is in italics against my express wishes. The cancellation of a free lunch at the expense of Currencies Direct again for the second time in two days was too much, action was required so I took that nice lady decorator out to lunch. Actually the expression “out to lunch” could easily be applied to the enormous intellect of the university educated but fatally blonde Lisa Thornton Allan. Recently whilst en route to Cuba she contended that the plane in which we were being transported was traveling at 2000 miles an hour despite spending most of the flight watching the moving map which updated the ground speed every minute and which indicated a speed of just over 500 miles an hour throughout the 10 hour flight. Yesterday she excelled herself again with her knowledge of geography. This time it was her contention that the lovely northern Kent town of Whitstable was on the south coast of England. She was certain because as she said “my mother lives there and I visit regularly and I know it is on the south coast”. Beautiful and fit she may be but geographically challenged and suffering from a velocity awareness deficiency certainly. Because of a rare bout of poor weather, the type that I shall be required to put up with know that I am officially a UK citizen again, with the need to be there for at least 6 months in the next year, yesterday was a useful exercise in reacquainting us with what we will have to bear after a number of years happily settled in sunny France. Rain is seldom welcome but obviously needed in the garden (no doubt to water in that damn palm tree that so damaged my perfect being earlier in the week, the roots of which had to dug in so deep that I fear they be singed by proximity to the molten core of the earth, and which may now cause earthquakes so much have I have disturbed the land) so there was nothing to be done but to go to lunch at the excellent Pierre Rouges in Valbonne. Scene of a triple murder surrounding a crime of passion some 25 years ago and opposite a garage the initial impression of the restaurant is a little unfavorable, but inside it is charming with a welcome fire in the log burner and exquisite food and made an admirable contribution to putting the dreary English like day of weather into perspective.Earlier in the week in Valbonne in the best and the most expensive fruit shop in the world, the first cherries of the season were on sale, a snip at just 199 euro a kilo so by my reckoning that’s about 5 euro each. Cherry pie anyone?
An hour later it was gone, bought by one of the idle rich in the village one assumes. Picture taken by Slash and Burn Thornton Allan from The Big Picture http://www.tbigp.com
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Chris France's Blog 
So Interpol have been informed of the mysterious disappearance of my much sort after deVere golf umbrella. It was (shall we say) taken from outside the church (of all places) and the owners of the church came to my rescue after my meeting with Chris and issued me a bright silver replacement, which I duly excepted and took shelter under for the rest of what can only be described as a miserable wet day.
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Perhaps someone overheard you promising me an umbrella and decided to take it for me?
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The admonishment from the Commandments is “Thou shalt not steal”
but it was only when he came to “Thou shalt not commit adultery” that
Chris remembered where he had actually left his umbrella………!
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And your point is?
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