All Yiddley, Armani and Arrogate

It was 11.20 before I crawled from my bed to ready myself for a birthday lunch. Had it be anybody else’s birthday but my own then I would have made my excuses and gone back to sleep. The only consolation was that my guardian, Peachy Butterfield, was in what seemed to be an even worse state than I.

It had been a very big night in Cannes the night before when we had all had dinner with northern comedy lawyer Al Yiddley (not his real name). I have a picture of the moment when Al decided to swap jackets with the Nice Lady Decorator.

Al Yiddley gets to grips with Armani

When I asked him if he liked Armani he said he had never been there and preferred “Arrogate for his olidays” which I translated to Harrogate for his holidays, which is a posh town in Yorkshire if that is not a contradiction in terms. Very expensive drinks in The Carlton and the copious amounts of wine at the lovely restaurant Pastis was followed later by stupidly partaking in post-dinner cognac and then a nightcap upon returning home. Thus to describe the effort required for Peachy and I to be washed and scrubbed and to report to the Auberge Provençal  by 12.00 is beyond me.

Dragging ourselves there, a bloody mary did just enough to raise spirits for the birthday bash. New furniture and a sympathetic make over of this wonderful old building added to the occasion which was attended by rather fewer than has been expected. The Naked Politician had sent his apologies that he could not venture out of Monaco because of a bit of a sniffle. This apology was accepted for two reasons; firstly we have been invited to the birthday celebrations in Monaco for his dear wife and hand-brake, Dawn in April, and secondly because he is the owner if a rather lovely boat, the D5, and we would like to be invited aboard again at some stage. Those invitations have been somewhat thin on the ground ever since that Nice Lady Decorator rather too enthusiastically and literally grasped the opportunities presented by the Naked Politician on one of his renowned disrobing events aboard the boat.

Currencies Direct affiliate The Cornish Tsunami, as seems to be the case with tsunami warnings the world over, did not appear and neither did John Balodis, the designer of the jacket from the forthcoming best seller The Valbonne Monologues, despite the offer of a free lunch. However The Wingco, Blind Lemon Milsted and Anthony “dock of the ” Bay were in evidence as was Pete Bennett from Blue Water. After lunch, some of us accepted an invitation to continue proceedings chez Roly and Poly Bufton at one of their many palatial properties, and so we were off again.

The last day of MIDEM today in Cannes will culminate in lunch on the beach with old pal Pete Charlcroft who has somehow clawed his way up from washer-up and tea boy at Bronze Records in the early 70’s to President of Notting Hill Music in the States, a respected and respectable music publishing house. When I asked if he was President because everyone else had left I formed the opinion that I may now have to pay for lunch.

Thereafter we have an invitation to dinner but quite frankly after lunch on the beach and the events of the past few days has taken its inevitable toll,  I have serious doubts about whether I shall make it. I need some beauty sleep before heading back to the dreary and dank UK tomorrow. On the other hand maybe I should gird my loins for one last south of France soirée before the period of quiet contemplation that lies ahead in February.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News