Nice little run around?

In sparkling sunshine we set off for the Goodwood Revival Festival, an event aimed at recreating the glorious post war tradition of Goodwood. Motor racing was where it started, the site having been a major airfield during the second world war after which the owner, the Earl Of March, turned it into a race track in 1948.

Some years later It fell into disuse until it was revamped in 1998 and turned into a revival festival of all things from the 40’s to the 60’s with a bias towards motor sport. It is an excuse to dress up in period costume, drink champagne or Pimms and look at loads of wonderful old cars. An ideal afternoon out for me.

I’ll take two. Can you wrap them?

Being a big Bentley and Rolls Royce fan it was perhaps inevitable that my picture today is of one of the classics from that stable. It was for sale, a mere snip at £275,000. I checked in my back pocket and I did not have quite enough, maybe next year with my book writing publishing advance.

I know that buyers of my new book will be looking for a certain quality, but once they have got over that particular hurdle, they will at least hope that it will be funny and thus the editing of this tome is causing me a few problems. It is fair to say that at present it is funny, but more in the way of when one smells something a bit odd and asks “what is that funny smell?”. It is not what I intend so considerably more work is required and I have come to realise that to make it ready for the provisional release date of November 5th, Bonfire night, could end up with it being very smelly indeed.

I can almost hear the sharp collective intake of breath that will accompany the reading of such momentous news. Many who had thought that their Christmas present quandry had been solved with my book will have to consider other presents instead. It will be a particular blow to those who had planned to give it to people they don’t like.

After a few hours immersed in the middle of the last century, a pint at The Oily Rag free house and a glass of Pimms and another browse around the thousands of classic cars we headed back to Arundel. A short pit stop at The White Swan allowed us time to be in the (builders) yard of our cottage in time for a sun downer, it having been a fantastic day out in glorious sunshine, I even had the roof of the Merc down for probably the last time before next May.

The sun was glinting on the pile of rubble, now reduced to the size of a dead elephant, and the continued reduction of which to the tip I have a sinking feeling will comprise much of my activity in the coming week. No wonder the book editing is slow.

Disappointingly, I have heard nothing yet from my three new Customers Direct customers secured in The White Hart on Friday but they will not escape. I know where they all live. A late lunch is planned today with the very dangerous Norman and Susie Philpot. I have heard The Black Rabbit mentioned as they are open all day for food, but I remain unconvinced about the quality of the food there, wonderful setting though it is. At least Norman will be unable to injure me in the same way he did when last we lunched at his house in Valbonne, bringing out his bowling machine and firing cricket balls at me at 90 miles per hour.

A final note, yesterday one of the comments on this page suggested that there was a typo in yesterdays column, when I said I was lynching with Clive Panto this coming Wednesday. I had to point out that actually it was a very clever play on words. Those who have experienced Clive’s cooking in the past will understand.

Chris France