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No drink all day – doctor called

September 19, 2013

I think the Washington Post, which organises a competition for readers to add a letter to an existing word to make a new meaning, have hit it on the head today. Sarchasam describes the gulf between a sarcastic comment and a person who does not get the joke. I wonder if there is a town in Germany similarly named?

British humour is often obscure and must be doubly so in a different language, and although my German friends have done their best to understand, I fear that the obscure and politically incorrect observations I have been making in the last week whilst I have been staying in the country may remain a mystery to them. I have a picture today of a cloud that looks a little like the hand of German sensibilities which is about to strike back at me.

red cloud

Weird cloud over Valbonne

In the end lunch was postponed and instead, I did some work. Can you imagine just how hard that was to deal with after the weeks, no months of partying we have been doing? So with the whole months tasks undertaken, and feeling exhausted after a week of driving and German baiting, I partook of a siesta. Later. a strange and incomprehensible thing happened. I had a Virgin Bloody Mary, and even after dinner, did not feel like having a drink. Something is wrong, I shall be making a doctor’s appointment this morning. Look, you don’t understand. There is a bottle if 2004 St Emilion Grand Cru in the wine rack, and it needs drinking. I take my responsibilities seriously. Medical help will have to be sought. I have a daily column to write about the idle rich in Valbonne. If I come over all teetotal, what will become of me?

So, will the first day since early July without a drink be followed by another? There is no reason why it should not, except for the extreme contrariness of the whole idea, antisocial in the extreme, and, with That Nice Lady Decorator asking me last night whether The Queens Legs, the pub in Valbonne, has (have?) reopened, I suspect there is a decent possibility that I shall be commanded to take her for a pint of Guinness this evening. If not, and no drink passes my lips for a second night, I shall be in unaccustomed good shape for tennis on Friday.

Now to that tennis. Poorly organised to take place at the Vignale by Currencies Direct client The Wingco, the usual shambles of a Friday tennis gathering will be followed, as night follows day, by lunch at Auberge St Donat. I am hearing worrying rumours that Old Harrovian, Loudmouth Largy, has been invited to join us and I want to know whose idea that was. Someone has to pay, preferably for lunch, for such a gauche invitation. His tennis playing abilities are not in question. His social graces after a few glasses if rose most certainly are. I am told that, realising that the invitations to anything have been a little sparse to say the least, he will be on his best behaviour. The trouble is that we all know that even his best is marginal.

Until then, I intend to enjoy the glorious sunny September Provençal weather. It is my favourite month down here, the restaurants are no longer bulging with tourists, the intense heat of August has gone and one can actually sit out in the sunshine and the sea is still warm, probably at its warmest of the year. This it is my self appointed duty to seek out and enjoy the best the region has to offer and to report back to you, my reader, with the details.

Chris France

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