Houghton goes to the dogs

I have written before about the hearsay and tittle-tattle I have heard concerning local beauty spot, Houghton view. Rumour has it, and I am still having nervous flashbacks about shouting “if you don’t come now, I am going to beat you” to Max, the family dog, before I was aware that it reputedly is also a venue for a different kind of dog, or dogging.

Perhaps if the local conservative council candidate, who kindly placed a pamphlet through my letterbox today, could learn something if he read this column every day. For instance he may have learned of the reputation, or what kind of a view one might expect to err… come across there. So when I saw the picture of him on the front of the brochure leaning on the sign at Houghton View, it made me laugh out loud. If he were to read this column carefully, he could also learn about the benefit of having an account with Currencies Direct. Here is a picture of that brochure.

Conservatives give seal of approval to Houghton View

Talking of dogs, it is the tick season, those nasty little parasites are much in evidence during spring time. I found one of these poor creatures yesterday with a terrible affliction. It had become infested with a Banjo, the horrid hound that lives a charmed life in our household as he has that Nice Lady Decorator as his protector. It was a tough job extracting him from the tick and I fear that it did not survive. sadly though, Banjo is still with us.

My favourite UK mortgage broker, cuddly Richard Mills, sent me a photograph of Serena Williams and her coach strolling through Valbonne. Clearly, knowledge of the tennis heritage of Valbonne, built by myself and my tennis playing pals, has spread far and wide. She could not have known she missed me, and that tennis lesson I promised her, by just a few days. Perhaps we will see her at the Vignale Tennis Club shortly?

Kindle fans, this is the news you have been waiting. My new book, The Valbonne Monologues, is now available for your kindle device. It is a cheaper but less exclusive way to acquire it, as these will clearly not be the signed, limited edition tactile article that previous buyers if the hard copies now own.

So last night, after eating the remains of the curry that The Nice Lady Decorator had insisted on liberating from the Indian restaurant, and then carrying around all Thursday evening, which had survived not only the Wild Willy Barrett gig, but had also languished by the bar whilst we night capped several large glasses of wine at The Ship Hotel, our home last night and after which we had retired happy and fulfilled, we did some filming.

Steve “chimney”. Barker, director of Otway The Movie, arrived to drag us out of The White Hart, where we were garnering some Dutch courage, ready to re-record our reminiscences of Mr Otway to insert into the film, ready for the Cannes Film Festival. I had thought my cravat, smoking jacket and monocle would have fitted the bill, but Chimney wanted something a bit more rock and roll.

Talking of rock and roll, I hear that Rolf Harris, the iconic Australian entertainer whom we signed to my record company make an improbable version of Bohemian Rhapsody in 1996, which just missed the Top 40 peaking at No 51, has been arrested in allegedly in connection with the Jimmy Savile investigation. Tie me kangaroo down. Sport indeed. If he were at Houghton View, might he be saying “Can you see what it is yet?”

Chris France
@Valbonne_News