Confirmed, Banjo repulsive

With the sun out in England for about the first time this summer, there was an inevitability about yesterdays thunderstorms, the first rain in two months. Actually it was quite refreshing sitting in the pav watching the lightning and rain gradually reduce the temperature to a more comfortable 25 degrees.

As I was sitting there last evening awaiting drinks after another day of toil and trouble (I did the toil, that nice lady decorator supplied the trouble), I spotted the “Repulsive” container, featured in today’s picture, a spray designed to deter cats and dogs from entering a particular area. It was purchased because some neighbours cats had decided the pav was a good place in which to sleep overnight and something had to be done to disavow them of this opinion.

He must have modelled for that picture

Pleasingly, the “repulsive” container featured a picture of a dog that was the spitting image of Banjo, the name of the truly unpleasant hound owned by that nice lady decorator. Perhaps I should not have written “Banjo”,  under the picture of him on the “repulsive” spray in felt tip pen, but with him being allowed into the pav on account of the storm, I could not resist the opportunity to see how effective this product could be. Sadly, he seemed more repulsed by the storm and rain than the spray, and just when I was about to extend the experiment to a no doubt very satisfactory conclusion, certainly for me, that nice lady decorator arrived, dripping wet but with a two Bloody Mary’s in her hands and a look in her eye. I admit I was torn. A Bloody Mary was very tempting but on the other hand a wet and repulsed Banjo was also a great lure. In the end one look at that nice lady decorators’ expression and I chickened out and took solace with Mary.

Last night, with the Auberge St Donat closed, we had planned once again to try out the Fontaine des Vins in Valbonne which is under new management, but with the rain continuing, doubtless brought with them by the hordes of pesky tourists that have arrived this week, this idea was given a late swerve.

Tomorrow morning we shall head for Vintigmilia, just over the border in Italy to collect sufficient stores of olive oil, parmesan, prosecco and a cheeky little red that I have found, sufficient to keep out the cold and wet of England until we are able to return. Frankly to do that job effectively we would need a pantechnican with a trailer, but we shall have to make do with cramming as much as we can into the 4 X 4.

There is a danger, assuming that these irksome storms move away, that we will have one last beach lunch before departure on the way back. Cagnes Sur Mer is favourite, but tomorrow will tell. Well, I will tell tomorrow in this column. If it keeps raining expect a report on tiddlywinks played at home.

Then this evening, assuming a return to normality for the weather, and assuming that I have left my mark on sufficient numbers of potential customers to open accounts with Currencies Direct, I am scheduled to play tennis at the Vignale for the penultimate time before a brief one week return to Valbonne, after which I shall be exiled to Arundel for the foreseeable future. Mr Larg and his son (Mr Small?) will be mine and Blind Lemon Milsted’s opponents. Last time out Blind Lemon’s forehand was a disaster which found somewhere to happen, so I shall be expecting better things from him during this contest.

Chris France