South Downs syndome

Three days in the desert will come to an end this evening. This award-winning period of temperance has had a terrible effect. I don’t sleep very well, I doze off in the evening and I have done a great deal of selfless work, some of it in respect of Currencies Direct and none of this is good for me.

Indeed I shall be working again this evening, but in a much more efficient way, this time with a glass of beer and then wine in my hand. Enigmatic pop star, top songwriter (according to a rigged poll by the BBC) and now film star, albeit in his own film about himself, John Otway is being transported to Arundel this evening courtesy of National Rail.

There are two reasons why he would let the train take the strain; firstly the boy does like a beer which would preclude him from driving, and secondly he does not drive. Anyone who has ever witnessed his chaotic live shows will know why it was a wise decision for him at an early age to decide not to learn. Falling off a motorbike 9 times on the way from Aylesbury to Luton in his teens was sufficient, even for him, to heed the advice he has received from  his friends, never to venture onto the road under his own steam ever again.

As if more compulsive evidence of his unsuitability to take charge of a motorised vehicle was required, there was one episode in my youth that underlined the wisdom if this decision. The Reverend Jeff, another contemporary of the time, had spent some months restoring a lambretta  scooter and had painted it pink. Otway decided to show the good Reverend how to do a wheelie. I need hardly mention that this episode did not end well. The scooter never went again.

It is true that John’s first taste of fame went to his head sufficiently for him to purchase a Bentley. I encouraged him of course, in fact it was I who went to complete the purchase, mainly due to the fact that I would get a chance to drive it.  Anyway, Mr Otway and I have serious business to discuss. That is the delusion under which we labour. We shall in fact be enjoying ourselves hugely planning yet another Otway scam, this time involving a guerrilla promotional attack on the Cannes Film Festival should they be unwise enough not to allow Otway The Movie to be screened during the film Festival market.

South Downs south of Arundel

Yesterday in preparation, I took once again to the West Sussex Downs in some rather splendid sunshine in search of exercise. Cold, certainly, but bracingly pleasant with wonderful views down to Arundel as my picture today depicts. The training is for the forthcoming skiing in the Alps.

Thereafter the weekend will be on the horizon and I have cause to believe that we are invited to a sushi evening. I discovered this by chance when popping to The White Hart to borrow some ice for my Virgin Mary. Note the will power that would have been required to go into a pub and not order a drink . Anyway, whilst there I was told that I was invited to, and had accepted, an invitation on Friday evening. It is often the case that I am the last to know about a social occasion.  Clearly I am not on that Nice Lady Decorator’s “need to know” list.  She believes that too much information is bad for me although exactly why has never been duly explained. Perhaps she is always keeping her options (of going without me) open.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News