Wittering on about a beach
You have to make the most of the very brief gaps in the poor weather in England, so as the day dawned with blue skies, instead of working on finding more lucky people to open accounts with Currencies Direct as I had planned, I persuaded that nice lady decorator to try out our new bike rack and give West Wittering beach another chance. When we got there I did make one discovery; the beach about which I had been so rude in a previous column was East Wittering, not West, but that East is as bad as I remembered. If was like the bad old days of the Berlin wall. East nasty and grey, the west more civilised and hospitable, and which I picture today. Neither of course hold a candle to Cannes or Juan les Pins but there is a wild charm about the beach that I kind of like.
A beach I have been Wittering on about
Tonight is Halloween but already I have been irked by Christmas advertising. Obviously it should be banned until after Bonfire Night on pain of death but my letter to the Prime Minister has still not been answered. Thus I still do not know whether he agrees with me and whether he also believes, as I do, that perpetrators should be garotted, or perhaps more aptly, burned at the Bonfire Night stake.
Not many know that Christmas was banned by Parliament in 1647, (perhaps that was why Guy Fawkes tried to blow it up?) and I suggested to Mr Cameron that he invoke the powers taken by Parliament then, but I am prepared to overlook that as long as there is no mention of it until November 6th. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas, except for all that unnecessary religious mumbo-jumbo which crowds in to try to make people feel guilty about having a good time. They just can’t bear people to enjoy themselves without some kind of payback (into the church collection so the vicar can buy some presents?).
I came across some Christmas advertising today. Worn out by a long walk (the bike remained stubbornly on the bike rack until we got home) in fitful sunshine and a little warm due to the number of clothes it is normally necessary to wear in England in October, I persuaded that nice lady decorator to undertake a cycle down to the Black Rabbit for a late afternoon pint. This is a perfectly balanced dietary exercise. I estimate that cycling to the Rabbit in calorie terms is roughly equivalent to a pint of real ale, so, although we are not gaining anything, cycling there and back and drinking two pints is roughly equivalent in terms of calorie burning and intake on the dietary stakes. Yes, we still embarked on a seemingly hopeless attempt to lose some weight.
Anyway, back to Christmas advertising. It is in every pub, offering Christmas menus or venues for Christmas parties, every shop, every garage, I even saw an advert outside a church for Christmas services, although I was not certain what kind of services to which they were referring; massage perhaps, maybe with happy endings? Those church sorts are always looking so happy, there must be some kind of pleasure of the flesh involved? In Valbonne the church offers free mulled wine after the Carol service. Maybe Carol is the name of the masseuse?
We shall be in England for Christmas this year, our first in Arundel and I am looking forward to it. I shall be ready for some more cold frosty weather by then as Thailand and Australia beckon in the interim.
Chris France
Chris France's Blog 