The wild side of Arundel

The sign said “the wild side of Arundel” and I was immediately intrigued. Was there something I had missed in the 11 months since we landed in this lovely town to avoid the vagaries of the French tax system? I thought I had begun to grasp the basic politics and runnings of Arundel, but a wild side? I need not have worried, it was a booklet detailing the delights one can find at the Arundel Wetland Trust. It seems there are some wild birds there.

Talking of wild birds, I am unaccountably reminded of that Nice Lady Decorator. Cleaning and decorating for all she is worth, and with the house in the process of being prepared for non-existent rentals, and my not enjoying the effects, I cracked and went for a long hard walk up to The Black Rabbit and through the Duke Of Norfolk’s estate from where I took this picture.

One of the Duke of Norfolks outbuildings. His equivalent of a garden shed?

According to my new Ordnance Survey phone application, I covered 6.73 km in an hour and twenty minutes. By my calculations that is about 4 miles an hour. Perhaps that is why I got so hot, close to re-entry speed, and that is my excuse. After two diet days out of the previous three, hot, sweaty and in no mood to go home to more upheaval and unpleasantness I found my route took me quite close to the Kings Arms. I also needed some quiet time to plan my activities in the coming weeks in respect of the fine services of Currencies Direct. This was such an important task that it could not be hurried and so I had a second pint and then a third and then it all went horribly wrong and I awoke this morning trying to remember what happened last night. One thing is for sure, I had neither lunch nor dinner which explains why I was such a lightweight.

So the last full day in Blighty for the next 5 weeks has dawned. One more horrible day of packing, scraping, folding, hiding and storing before the early start on Sunday morning. The ferry leaves from Portsmouth and I shall get to Caen and able (did you see what I did there?) to drive down to central France for a stop over on the way to my beloved Valbonne.

Before that there is the far from insignificant rugby match between Australia and the British Lions to negotiate. Arundel is not the sort of town that has a pub that has Sky Sports, so I shall be hoping to watch it at home later this morning, unless the TV has been packed away. However if this is unpopular then I shall doubtless slip into Littlehampton and try to find a pub showing the game. This may be a little harder than you think; the population is so old, one has to dodge the mobility scooters and as many of the inhabitants are deaf or blind, or indeed dead, there might not be much of a call for TV in the town.

I see that The Guardian has reviewed Otway The Movie in glowing terms but there seems no mention of the star of the show, my good self, anywhere. There was also no mention of the outrageous piece of product placement where a certain unrenowned author managed to place a copy of his book The Valbonne Monologues beside one of his many gold records whilst being filmed, but hey ho life goes on. The film is due to be shown tonight at Glastonbury Festival straight after the performance of The Rolling Stones and then in some cinemas, details at www.otwaythemovie.com

Chris France
One of the Duke of Norfolks outbuildings. His equivalent of a garden shed?