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Tango Uniform?

April 16, 2013

As we lay by the pool, soaking up the sun yesterday, That Nice Lady Decorator announced that when we move back to France sometime next year, she was going to get some chickens as she had seen a nice wooden pen that she liked and said would be perfect for them. I told her that if this was the case she should place it in the far right of our garden. When she asked why I said we could call it Madame Le Penn. Quick as a flash she retorted saying that was going to be the name of one of her chickens.

25 degrees and wall to wall sunshine. It does not get much better than this and to cap it off, lunch on the beach at St Laurent du Var on the way to the airport.

It had been a blissful Sunday. After an early walk into Valbonne and with Peachy out for the day, we did not have to resist the barrage of pressure to have a drink and with the house empty had decided to have a day sunbathing and doing absolutely nothing. A cooked chicken, some wonderful avocados and even better asparagus purchased from the most expensive fruit shop in Valbonne, and quite possibly the world, together with a couple of nice bottles of wine, of the type not purchased by Peachy. In fact, I have decided to buy a packet of strepsils each time he buys a box of card Bordeaux in order to even things up. then Currencies Direct client Peter Bennett from Blue Water turned up and the inevitable happened, we went to Valbonne Square for dinner.

That fruit and vegetable shop in Valbonne

That fruit and vegetable shop in Valbonne

At lunch yesterday, details began to emerge about poor behaviour aboard the Naked Politicians boat, D5 on Sunday. After jumping off the side, a certain man mountain apparently had to swim to the hydraulic lift used for hoisting the jet skis at the back of the boat where he was winched up like a beached whale, and returned to his bath chair with another flagon of wine. No prizes for guessing who this was, or who had a flip-flop malfunction on the way back and walked into a tree. I imagine that somewhere in Antibes there is now a great pile of matchwood.

I don’t know how we got around to it but he went on to tell a story about going to Frankfurt some years ago. Not knowing the area and having to park some distance away from the exhibition hall they were attending, the two chaps involved made a note of the name if the road where they were parked, Einastrasse. when trying to find the car later at night, they asked a police man for directions “which one way street do you want?”.

After a final amusing moment where the gargantuan Peach came out of the toilet splashed with water from what he described as comedy taps, it was down to the airport to discover a two hour delay. So what was a man to do? Yes, into the executive lounge for a last slurp before we finally boarded the plane. By that time it had all gone, as they say in piloting circles “Tango uniform”, in other words, Tits Up. I contend that it was not my fault I left my passport on the plane.

Arriving back in the evening to clear skies, we fondly entertained the notion that today could be sunny, but as I look out of the window I can see my least favourite weather, sideways drizzle. Was it all just a wonderful dream? No, I still have the tan although I can feel it fading already.

Chris France

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