Who ate all the pies?

Every properly educated person knows that chips, when consumed in England,  require Sarsons Vinegar. I think there is a law about not using it. So to say that I was stunned when that nice lady decorator told me that we did not have any was like being told wine does not need a glass, or that Banjo, the appalling whining canine owned by that nice lady decorator does not need a muzzle, Palpable nonsense.

We were sitting down to an English “dinner” which comprised a steak and kidney pie, some home-made sausage rolls from the Farmers Market and chips purchased from the chip shop across the road. An English feast of the type that is adding to my girth by the day. You will note that vegetables did not figure, but we were allowed some baked beans. Do these count as one of my five a day?

The Arundel Festival is underway and has been blessed yesterday by the sort of weather we expect to experience in my beloved Valbonne. Many bars have sprung up over night, one in the old ruins across the bridge and one on the gardens of a delightful house right on the River Arun some twenty yards from my front door. With its wall bordering the River and serving champagne and wine and with music on the stage across the river, we spent a perfect English Saturday afternoon drinking wine and listening to music. There is no real hardship in having four licensed premises within 100 yards of my front door. I do not have the heart to complain about the noise, she will shut up eventually.

Earlier we had walked around Arundel where because most of the roads have been closed all the cafes and bars have tables spilling out onto the roads and pavements. There is an English tradition that old towns employ a Town Cryer. My foreign readers may be forgiven for wondering why a beautiful English village has to have someone permanently depressed, but it is not like that. From what I understand the Town Cryer is a chap whose job it is to make the sort of announcements we all now receive via Facebook or email. Hangings, people being put in the stocks and witches being burnt at the stake were all entertainments that would have been announced by a Town Cryer, a sort of noisy walking talking notice board. I have a picture of the well fed Arundel Town Cryer today.

Oh Yez oh yez, who ate all the pies?

“Who ate all the pies” is a refrain often heard at English football matches when a player or a referee is deemed by the paying public to have over indulged in food. I am not saying he is fat but…actually I don’t know what I am saying. He cannot have eaten all the pies as we had one for supper.

Today we are to be visited by old friends the Savins. They are traveling down from snowy Buckinghamshire for a bit of sunshine and it looks like they may be lucky. It seems that the weather forecasters are predicting a full day of sunshine, the third on the trot. How long can it be before drought is once again declared?They are keen, as am I to see The Bathtub Challenge, a boat race undertaken by people who have built boats out of bathtubs. expect a full report tomorrow

Regular readers will know and expect that as today is a Sunday, a day of rest, I shall not spend time in this column discussing the benefits of opening an account with Currencies Direct.  No, I have assumed that anyone who is enthralled by the daily goings on in either Valbonne or Arundel as faithfully reported in this daily blog, will have already opened an account.

Chris France