The Chem Trail theory

I stand corrected and suitably contrite. In yesterday’s column, that you no doubt read, I was questioning why anyone would want to stage a goth festival in Whitby in Yorkshire, indeed why anyone would want to stage anything there or even to go there, but it appears that Whitby has a direct connection to the macabre. Bram Stoker (great name), the writer of Dracula, apparently lived in this dull northern outpost when he was writing the novel and even featured the town in his book (which might explain why they are not uplifting, positive views of life). Hence the staging of a goth festival is by no means an unreasonable event, to anyone au fait with his works. Fortunately I count myself amongst the more reasonable.

Yesterday I touched upon the concept of the Chem Trail Conspiracy. It was during discussions at ours over a nightcap after dinner that things became really scary. According to the chaps (vegetarians, so not always to be trusted) with whom we had dined on Tuesday evening, there is a school of thought, which includes them, that embraces the concept of a vast conspiracy controlled by the worlds most powerful men (and women – it includes the queen) that, as far as I understand it, involves some chemicals being deliberately introduced into aeroplane emissions that are designed to make the worlds populations more compliant. It also seems to run that Al Qaeda does not exist, it was invented to spread fear and allow governments to rearm, and that 9/11 was an American plot. This very reasonable train of thought is apparently espoused by no greater man than David Icke, self-styled saviour of the universe, often dressed in a purple shell suit. I wish I had made this up, but it seems that two, on the surface of it, quite reasonable and well-educated people are convinced that this is the truth. And who am I to argue?

The Black Rabbit terrace

After a six mile walk yesterday morning up the River Arun which took us past The Black Rabbit, pictured today, last night we took a chance and went to an outdoor play. Staged at the Roman Villa at Bignor, or rather in a field behind the Roman Villa, we had dropped into the White Swan in Sutton for a pint of Doombar and to watch the forecast storm clouds gather. Two garden chairs were stuffed into the back seats of the Merc, and would only go into the car by taking the roof down. The is was all well and good when the sun was shining in late afternoon, but presented a problem for later, should the forecast storms arrive, and the chairs required to be returned to the car, the roof would have to be opened. I expressed the opinion that, should the rains arrive on time, we could either leave them somewhere ready to collect when the rains had abated, but was given the impression that should such a course of action be followed, I may be looking for a new wife. Thankfully, the clouds gradually evaporated and the play ” Harlequin Goes To The Moon” was successfully performed. Those amongst the audience who thought there might be some reference to rugby were disappointed but the eclectic play which started in 16th century Florence, and managed to take on a trip to the moon. Me? I was also up in the clouds, comforting a 2005 Chateau Musar, a very fine and rare Lebanese red wine, a product of the Bekaa Valley.

Events like these are an obvious breeding ground for potential clients of Currencies Direct, and although there was some discussion about exchange rates amongst those to whom I spoke, I am not certain there was anyone in attendance who would have benefited.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News