Delving into Six Mile Bottom?

Well, my twinning suggestions for the lovely Sussex village of Warningcamp in yesterdays column threw up a number of fantastic suggestions. The Reverend Jeff was the first on the scene with a very fine suggestion that a village called Six Mile Bottom in East Anglia might be a good candidate. I remember as a child being taken for our annual holiday at Mundesley in Norfolk, and my father would always stop and buy a postcard from the village to send to one of my mothers friends with the name of the village on it, because he claimed it always reminded him of her.

Next on the scene was the lovely Poly, of Roly and Poly Bufton who came up with some great and rather unbelievable ideas; it seems that there is a part of New York called Coxsackie, and a town in Virginia called Bumpass. Warningcamp and Bumpass, now that would be good cheeky pair , but she came up with an even better one. It seems that in Arizona there is a small town called Knob Lick. Either she has a fertile imagination or has spent rather too long in the southern states of America for her own good. Old golfers who read this column will know of a niblick, but a knob lick? Surely not.

Also, yesterday I was attacked by a pair of locusts. Both Sprogs arrived in late afternoon to eat all my food and drink all my drink. If just one of them arrived it would normally represent a thrashing of my wallet, but with both arriving at the same time, it was more a case of a shredding. A few drinks at The Swan Hotel ended up costing over £40 or about 47 euros at today’s Currencies Direct exchange rates, and was followed by a dinner at ours, at which I thought the fleecing would be over. Not a bit of it. How do children have such an ability to home into the secret stocks of Chateau Musar that I keep for special occasions, and decimate them so quickly? Life can be so harsh.

That Nice Lady Decorator was of course delighted to see them both, and actively encouraged them to enjoy life at my expense. The really bad news is that they are going to be in France with us for the summer. I hardly dare consider what it might cost me.

Walking near Warningcamp

Today, after the locusts have departed to strip clean their next victim, I will be walking again. Oh for a time when one can go walking in shorts and without a fleece and a jacket, something that I have not been able to do for the last week because of the usual dreadful English weather. I had hoped to spend some time watching the ICC world championship cricket on the TV but it was reduced to a farcical 20 over bash because of what? Rain. The fact that England lost is irrelevant in the circumstances, and actually I would trade all the ICC trophies for the next 100 years as long as we retain The Ashes in the series against Australia due to start next month. That is proper 5 day cricket, mans cricket, the real thing.

Have I mentioned that I shall be making my first public appearance at this years Glastonbury Festival? Otway The Movie, which features a couple if cameo appearances by my good self is to be shown at the festival in the cinema tent after headliners The Rolling Stones have finished their (Otway will probably claim their support) set. I can be hired for public events, bah-mitzvahs, the opening of fetes etc. I have however been usurped when it comes to opening the Kings Arms Old English Fete on August Bank Holiday Monday as part of Arundel Festival as Mr Otway himself has claimed that gig.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News