A box of chicken for a man in a box?

It was that kind of lunch on Tuesday. The type where too many stories can be told at or about lunch, too many to cram into the daily target of 600 words in this column which is dedicated to helping people who needs to send or receive money from abroad. Detailed help available from Currencies Direct.

For instance, Bailey’s loving Jude O Sullivan was there and mortified as none was offered but she revealed that even the Valbonnaise restaurant keeps her own special trough of the evil looking liquid Baileys under the counter of this popular family run eaterie.

More worryingly Peachy Butterfield spent some time showing pictures he had taken of the naked politician meeting various waitresses whilst wearing leaderhousen. I am not sure if I am more uncomfortable about the wearing of those curious German leather shorts in public or the fact that Peachy had kept them on his phone and was happily showing them to all and sundry. He describes himself like a duck, swimming around serenely but there is a lot going on underneath. This is a concept into which I am sure my dedicated readership can understand I did not wish to delve too deeply, especially as he had his hands in his pockets as the description unfolded.

Then there was the discussion the details of which never reached my conscious mind about the Mail online, or was it the male online? There was also some talk about a kind of desperate housewives tv programme concept but with cleaning ladies, a reaction I think to the steely eyed one’s revelations at lunch about cleaning her shower room with a toothbrush whilst naked as I outlined yesterday, but details in my memory banks have proven elusive.

So, yesterday we managed it, we did not have a drink, either of us even in the face of the provocation of evening sunshine and a well stocked bar. Proud or thirsty?

My picture today is of Colonel Saunders in a phone box in wet and windy drought stricken Surrey last week. I cannot explain it but perhaps he was ordering Kentucky Fried Chicken to take away?

“Have you anything finger licking good by any chance?”

Next Wednesday is the opening night of Deathtrap the new theatre production at the Espace Miramar in Cannes. A number of well known actors including David Easter who was in Brookside and several other mainstream TV programmes are in rehearsal as we speak and the show comes to Sophia Antipolis on 24th and 25th May. I shall be there to support them. Tickets available from their website or on the door on either night Wednesday or Thursday.

Then looking ahead, dinner tonight at a splendid Bastide near Grasse where I shall encounter the Wingco whom I have not seen much of lately, church at Cafe Latin in Valbonne tomorrow to catch up with Mr Humphreys (if he is free) to find out any gossip about his resent trip to Amsterdam. It defies belief that my often effeminately attired magistrate friend and style guru will not have a story or two to tell about his inevitable visit to the cities famous red light district.

Golf with the Landlubbers is possible on Saturday although if the predicted possibility of storms comes to pass I may find myself unable to attend should there be clouds in the sky (why play golf in the rain when there are 300 sunny days a year down here?), and a potentially gossip laden and interesting lunch in Mougins on Sunday is on the cards. I do so love being back in France.

Chris France