Giant Haystacks at the Black Rabbit?

The first day of 2013 is over, and boy, am I relieved. So far, that Nice Lady Decorator has not passed comment on yesterday’s photo of her standing in a dog basket, which can only mean one thing, she has not yet seen it nor read the column.

In utterly alien conditions, to which we did not know how to react, we walked on the beach of Clymping squinting in the unusual light, discussing, ironically in bright uninterrupted sunshine, the news that we had just endured the wettest year in England since records began. How we could reach such a position from 3 months of drought during January, February and March  and a hose pipe ban from April 6th, is one to be dealt with by a higher authority than I.

We had agreed to convene with Barry  and Anne King and our house guests the Savins, that we would go for a walk on the beach and thereafter reconvene for lunch at The Black Rabbit, from where I took this moody shot at dusk as we left.

The walk went well for some although in Mr Savin’s case, the word “amble” may have been slightly more descriptive. I am not saying he is slow,  just that his rate of progress would have made some of that Nice Lady Decorators tortoises look swift. After an hours walk covering some 200 yards of beach (if you count there and back) we headed for the Black Rabbit to slake our thirst. It was impossibly daring, but we elected to sit outside for the first drink, which in my case was a large bloody mary,  to ward off a slight shabbiness lingering from the New Years Eve celebrations the night before. I had not thought to pack sun cream, and although the temperature was hovering around 5 degrees, you can never be too careful with sun stroke after not experiencing any for so long.

Tom, the landlord of the Rabbit, responded to my earlier complaints in this column about the lack of a decent French red wine on the menu by supplying a very respectable 2009  St  Emilion, which was not on his wine list, and which was sufficiently well received by our group to order two more bottles, one of which was on the House, a splendid gesture which seems to vindicate gentle complaint. Credit where credit is due, and being in receipt of that credit in the form of free wine was very creditworthy..

Now to the sartorial side. Step forward Mr King. Now in certain circumstances I would consider wearing  a black nylon top with high visibility epilets, but only if I am paid substantially and am not accompanied by two large dribbly Spinoza’s who are shedding hair at an alarming rate. The overall effect was for him to resemble a haystack with luminous protrusions, but with added wet patches.

Lovely dogs that they are, the continual stream of dribble emanating from their straggly beards is not a pretty sight to anyone but owners of this bearded breed.  Regular readers will know that I have previously promised not to be rude to Mr Haystack as he has the forms ready to open his new Currencies Direct account, but has yet to complete his application. I did not wish to be as unsubtle as this in guiding him to a successful conclusion, but sometimes gentle persuasion is the only thing people understand. If that does not work then the gloves will be off. I am confident that the completed application will be with me this week, otherwise who knows what stick Giant Haystacks will get in this column

Chris France
@Valbonne_News