Lords have mercy

An English paradox yesterday culminated in having to seek shelter from the sun in the afternoon. 30 degree heat in London in general and at Lords in particular, where I was witnessing another fascinating Test March between England and Australia at the spiritual home of cricket, had me placing my dear 85-year-old Aunt Pam at the mercy of the stewards, who helpfully found us some alternative seats in the shade. Sunshine and warmth on this scale are very wonderful when one is sitting around the poolside in the south of France, but not nearly so welcome when seated directly in the sun on an elevated terrace.

Lunch in the Coronation Gardens at Lords

There is a comments section at the end of this daily missive, allowing people to make their views felt, often when the feel they have been wronged. Yesterday there was a contribution from Currencies Direct customer, Old Wellingtonian and good friend Mr Clipboard. I have the right of approval on all comments, and have allowed his to be published for several reasons. Firstly because, despite his protestations to the contrary, he clearly reads this column avidly, secondly because it contains a very poor piece of grammar that a former “grammar school oik” as he often describes me, spotted immediately, and thirdly, it is factually inaccurate as 106,000 hits on this column since its inception seems to indicate that I have more than “a few dozen readers”. I suppose maths was not his string suit, or maybe he thinks I have been writing this daily tome for over 40 years?

The source of my tickets to the Test Match yesterday,and indeed my invitation into a corporate box today simply cannot be named because he has a professional career, which he hopes to continue. I always take him out to dinner afterwards at a venue of his choice in part redress for the treat of being able to attend an event so dear to my heart. Now there are thousands of restaurants in London, many, if not most, with tables available, particularly with the weather so warm and people therefore disinclined to sit inside. There is also the fact that, as I have a house in France and French cuisine is so very ubiquitous, when I come to England I tend to avoid French restaurants and search out something spicy or different. I also hate queuing with a vengeance and so, last night I found myself queuing for an hour to go eat at a French restaurant serving just one dish . L’Entrecote in Marylebone Lane had a line of about 10 people waiting quietly for a table, and, once seated, to be “treated” to curt French waiters well-practiced in the art of the Gallic shrug and the dismissive attitude, so beloved by that nations psyche. Restive is a vast understatement for how I felt before we eventually managed to get seated, and I was looking for faults from the outset . There were none. The only choice you get is how you want your steak cooked and what wine would you like. Their steaks come sliced in a delicious sauce with elements of mild curry and tarragon I think; they do not divulge the recipe. You may think this might limit the restaurants appeal but far from it. At one stage whilst we were eating the queue grew to about 50 for a restaurant that probably does not seat that many. This is an astonishing phenomenon. What bank or investor would support the concept of a restaurant with such a limited remit? And yet it was rammed with hoards of hungry diners waiting an hour or more for a table. Astonishing, and astonishingly good.

Today I shall be in that box with some members of Keane, a popular modern singing group who, I believe, will be performing on the BBC’s Test March Special at lunchtime.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News