Nice Matin probe lives if the idle rich

I was unaware, when I posted yesterday’s column, of an alleged event of some note that took place at my house in Valbonne the night before. I am not sure I am able to reveal which attractive lady it was supposed to gave been who having, I think it is fair to say, thirstily entered into the spirit of the occasion, and as a result became an extra house guest for the night, was responsible.

I was told she was found naked at 2am, face down and sprawled, I might say straddling, a box of my latest book, The Valbonne Monologues, in the hall. The room in which she was staying had its own en suite facilities , so I cannot think of any other reason why she may have been discovered, totally unclothed, in the close vicinity of a number of my books, all uncannily, sporting a painting of myself sporting a particularly tickely moustache.

However, it appears that I have bee the victim if a hoax and that no such event took place, which is a real pity, but did at least make a great story. Talking of my book, which I still am, and will continue so to do, one of my book launch sponsors, Dancing Greg Harris from Côte d’Azur Villa Rentals was very keen to get his complementary copy, part of the sponsorship package. With lunch scheduled at the Auberge St Donat taking centre stage due to the cancellation of tennis because of irritating English weather, Dancing Greg was keen to join us tennis playing chaps, even if we were not playing tennis. He was understandably delighted by the inclusion in said book of a picture of himself extracting the very last droplets of rose wine from a bladder (the receptacle for wine served Peachy-like from a box) of the local brew. I know he was thrilled but did his best not to show it.

Lunch at Auberge St Donat

Earlier, I had walked to Cafe Latin in the rain to fulfil my commitment to be interviewed by Nice Matin, who were keen to discover details of the true story of life amongst the idle rich of Valbonne. You can rest assured that once the article is published you will be the first to know. I imagine that a number of characters whom have received coverage in this wonderful publication may be less keen.

So, lunch at Auberge St Donat was the usual triumph. 4 courses including wine for 15.50, about £13 at today’s Currencies Direct exchange rates was as good as one has come to expect, but the highlight was just after the Wingco had glimpsed the book and had started to intone the word that he insists is the best adjective to use in it’s presence, “ghastly”. Not 3 minutes later, his wife, the gorgeous Maryse arrived and insisted on buying a copy on the spot. I think it is fair to say that the Wingco was not best pleased.

I am not sure how or why the luncheon conversation turned to the vagaries of the tax system or one’s annual tax return, but according to Peachy Butterfield, one of the tax returns sent in by one of his friends was so horrific that the tax department had a whip around so they could send him a food parcel.

Whilst I am here in France, and having to post this daily column from my IPhone, I cannot control exactly where the picture will appear, so it’s a good job I have a WordPress expert on hand that sorts this kind of thing out for me. However I know exactly when it was taken. Lunch at Auberge St Donat is so exhausting that one must relax by one’a pool with a glass of wine after the event. That is the law of France. Chris France that is.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News