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Fresh fruit – the benefits

November 19, 2012

I want it recorded, I played tennis in November in the sunshine in shorts in England. Eyebrows were raised when, after half an hours play, I peeled off my track suit to reveal my wonderful hand made-to-measure lime green matching shirt and shorts that I had tailored in Kenya this time last year. Their suitability for the task in hand was unfairly questioned, and, may have had a bearing on the result, which incidentally, I do not recall.

The outcome was unimportant, a statement that regular readers may recognise as an indication that the result that was not entirely positive. It was just nice to get out and hit a few balls and there were a couple of balls owned by the winner that I would have liked to whack, but as I said, the result was not important.

After an hours tennis, we realised that The Black Rabbit was open and so adjourned for a pint in the sunshine. As there just the three of us we had played American doubles and both James “Desperate Dan” the Landlord and Paul “Rabbit” Burrows, both long time inhabitants of Arundel, began to reveal details of their antics  in the town when they were younger. It seems that at one stage some years ago there were 18 pubs in the town and it was the done thing upon reaching 18 years of age, to attempt to have a drink in all 18 on one’s birthday. Paul mentioned that he has a house in France which immediately marked out as a potential client for Currencies Direct. It seems that he has been working on it for 15 years but lives in Arundel with his wife and her new boyfriend, which seems a rather curious domestic arrangement. I need to know more.

Before being joined by that Nice Lady Decorator, the conversation had taken a decidedly male-oriented direction but upon her arrival we were able to disguise the subject by referring to the benefits of consuming lots of fresh fruit, as illustrated by my picture today (sorry Lin).

I liked this photo as the subject looked so melancholic

I liked this photo as the subject looked so melancholic

After several in the Rabbit it was back to the White Hart for a thirst quencher before returning home for an “eat up the fridge” repast. This can often bring forward food combinations of which Mrs Cropley from The Vicar Of Dibley would be proud. Yesterday was no exception and I am far from certain what some of the roasted vegetables started out as.

I think one always gets an interesting selection of clothing in one’s suitcase when packing under the influence of alcohol, so this morning , before setting off for the delights of Heathrow and Manchester, I shall be repacking it. It seems likely, on reflection, that ski gear will not be required in either Bangkok or Australia, although for Manchester, the jury is out.

My new book, The Valbonne Monologues, launch will now take place in late January due to printing schedules and self-inflicted editing disasters. I know with certainty that many people’s Christmas festivities will be more lack lustre as a result, but there is an old show business saying, something about keeping them wanting. I would have been content with start them wanting.

Thus this evening,  I shall be taking to the big bird in the sky en route for  Dubai and then Thailand,  before heading on to Australia by the weekend. I shall as usual be attempting to report daily but with time differences and internet usage unavailable in flight, this daily column may arrive on your computers at curious times, but rest assured, it will be published. You don’t get away that easily.

Chris France


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