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Implacable resolve dissolves

August 7, 2013

Even a successful author without the immense powers of description that goes with the territory, would have been able easily to convey my certainty that, after a month of full on partying, I was going to have a quiet day yesterday, sitting by the swimming pool, ignoring any call to go eating and drinking. Nothing was more set in stone than the fact that I was implacably resolved to spending a day worshipping my body by relaxing and refusing any temptation to leave the house or involve myself in any form of social contact that might involve a drink. Absolutely. The end,

That was until late morning when I received a message from the redoubtable Simon “Chateau Gloria” Howes to “a boozy lunch in Valbonne”. Don’t you just hate that when it happens? A decision is made and adherence to that course of action is unshakeable, and, as soon as That Nice Lady Decorator has wind of it, all resolutions are off. At first I thought I would delete the email, thinking that I could pretend that I did not get the message, and stay with plan A. However there was a fatal flaw in this plan, as it had been copied to That Nice Lady Party Animal. So at 12.30 we presented ourselves, as requested, at Auberge Provençal in Valbonne Square to partake of said lunch. On the way I took this picture of some modern “art” which did nothing for my appetite.

the worst of modern art

A contorted piece of crap litters Valbonne

So a long lunch transpired with my king scallops in a truffle sauce being an absolute triumph, not only for the chef but for me. Mr Howes seldom ventures far from Bordeaux when it comes to wine, and in me he has a spiritual friend, or should I say a viticultural friend, so with his demands met, I headed for the inevitable siesta at around 6pm.

As a cigar man, Mr Howes cannot be surpassed. Any man who can describe his breakfast comprises half of a Monte Christo No 2 and an espresso is all right by me. I have no idea how he manages to look so young on such a diet but am considering changing from my ultra sensible regime to something more akin to his in an effort to look younger. This is not a position supported by That Nice Lady Diet Enforcer. Valbonne has an excellent tabac with a humidor full of Havana’s finest, so, running a little short of cigars, and given the company, I found myself spending a small fortune for a couple of Cohibas, before being overcome by a bout of extreme tiredness.

Having acquired several doggy bags of left over curry from Roly and Poly’s Indian feast at the weekend, That Nice Lady Cook was not called upon to test her culinary skills to their limits as last night we enjoyed again those excellent curries from the weekend. I have no idea exactly what they all were, but delicious? certainly.

Earlier in the day, when certain that no social occasion beckoned, we had been out in the skip (read car) to check out a few restaurants that are on the target list for the future and had formed a good impression of the Clos des Pins in Roquefort Les Pins, which is now in our sights, and I am sure the review will appear in this column shortly.

This evening there will be rock and roll and camping in our lives. The Wingco and his sometime band will be appearing at a secret location, so secret that even I do not know where it will be. All I do know is that Bluebell the camper will be pressed into service again and a full report will appear tomorrow. You may have noticed that, so far, there has been no mention of the excellent services of Currencies Direct yet today, and that is because I believe all my readers, some 108,000 in total as of today, are now well aware of how much they can save on their foreign exchange services.

Chris France

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