Lunch in ruins

“Dry clean only” it said clearly in large print on the label of the curtains which that nice lady decorator was stuffing in the washing machine. When I pointed this  out to her she said that it was too late, the other pair were already drying on the washing line. So maybe they will still match when they are dry? Perhaps we should get smaller windows?

Talking of dry, that is exactly what I had been for nearly the last 72 hours when once again I became metaphorically a little more damp. However due to drivers commitments (wife had a meeting) things were just warming up nicely before Currencies Direct client Mr Clipboard was gone. Just a nice walk on the beach, a pint at the Black Horse at Climping and a slightly better than ordinary lunch at the Black Rabbit and then they departed into the early afternoon. From a south of France, Starship Enterprise perspective It was lunch but not as we know it.

Earlier in the morning when I was doing my Brad Wiggins impersonation on my bike, my own personal tour de France, I had stopped to take this picture of the ruins of Arundel in the sunshine. Brad and I have a number of connections; we cycle, we have a love of the mod scene (one of my clients, the late Steve Marriott was the singer in The Small Faces) and we have extravagant hair. Where Bradley has sideburns, I have a luxuriant moustache.

Around Arundel

With lunch disappointingly forshortened, and an after an attempted siesta, I awoke, if indeed I had been asleep,  thirsty and decided that the White Hart needed our presence. We had not been for there in over a week due to commitments in France and Ireland  and pubs can go down hill unless regularly vetted. I am happy to report that all was in order and the Harvey’s ale as good as ever.

I am instructed that this morning we shall be visiting Littlehampton. The phrase “kicking and screaming” comes to mind. I hate shopping with the same intensity that the nice lady decorator loves it, but there are some things I need and there you have it, I am going shopping. Thereafter I shall continue with editing “The Valbonne Monologues” the exciting tale of the idle rich at play in Valbonne that I shall hope to launch on a largely suspecting world just before Christmas. Of course to launch it then requires it to be finished by the end of the month and that means work.

There are two plans laid out for the evening. That nice lady decorator wants another night of abstinence, sitting by the fire watching drama drivel before the carnage of a couple of nights in London to witness a performance of John Otway on Saturday night and then the premiere of his film on Sunday. My plan is to break us in gently with a couple of pints followed by an Indian take away or a smart meal out in Arundel, then back for a cognac in front of the fire. I shall be putting the case for my plan today. It is clearly more sensible to be properly prepared for a couple of big nights out than to go at it cold as it were. There is always the propensity of peaking too early if one is not in full training.

It will be a weird experience on Sunday. I expect to see many old hippies crawling out from under stones to witness the premiere, perhaps even the Reverend Jeff, who has known Otway for even longer than I, may be there, although this being a Sunday and with him being at church this may be in doubt. I know that Ken Poodle (aka Paul Kendall) intends to be there and doubtless other old friends will emerge from the woodwork.

Chris France

@Valbonne_News