Lost day: Townhouse in the dock

It was all looking like a sensible but hungry day, with a combination of circumstances combining to delay breakfast until after midday. Getting up late, walking for too long and being out of some vital ingredients for a post diet day breakfast, notably duck eggs, meant that it was nearly lunchtime before food was considered. Then it sprang into my mind. Let’s have lunch at the Townhouse, and that is where the sense began to disappear.

You see, they have one of my favourite wines on the menu. Chateau Musar is the only Lebanese wine of any note, and being produced in the Bekaa Valley, effectively a war zone, somehow makes it more interesting. It is also over 14% proof so it is not a lily-livered offering. Being hungry after consuming what was effectively 600 calories over a 40 hour period, and having walked 10 miles in the meantime, I set upon the food in much the manner that Banjo, That Nice Lady Decorators fat thieving dog, falls upon the rubbish bin and recycling box whenever we are not present.

Fois gras, and a whole roasted partridge were splendid partners for an excellent wine, and with The Banjo Lover sticking to Sauvignon Blanc, I was compelled to finish the bottle all by myself. The meal over, there is always that temptation on the final stretch to home and safety, to be tripped up by the stupid idea of popping into The White Hart next door for a nightcap, or perhaps more accurately a late afternoon cap. The tripwire did its evil work and I found myself in deep conversation with some poor lady about something but have no idea who she was or any recall of anything that I was saying or rather, slurring.

The flooded fields of Sussex in a rare moment of sunshine

Had it stopped there, and I had gone to bed and stayed there, then I may have felt better, but waking up at 9pm with a raging thirst and discovering a nice Bordeaux in the rack left over from Christmas, was to continue the stupid descent onto mind altering but very satisfying debauchery. So last evening (in fact until 3am) was spent drinking wine and watching pre recorded episodes of Celebrity Juice, a programme much loved by The Sprogs, which surprisingly I have come to like. It’s presenter, Keith Lemon, is a monstrous irreverent throw back to 70’s, but is actually a brilliant host.

It is often said that famine follows feast and so it will be today with the second 5:2 diet day of the week scheduled. It will mean a day without a drink but I can honestly say I am delighted. It was a big day yesterday and my head still aches. This column, which I know kick starts many of my readers days, dedicated to the promotion of Currencies Direct, is late today, simply because I got up very late this morning due to yesterday’s excesses. However, as usual I know it is worth waiting for. Who am I kidding? I suppose it could be a little like waiting for the flu to strike, knowing that the anti-bodies should ensure it only happens the once means one actually can embrace the whole concept of catching it.

So by the time you reading this, dear reader, I shall be once again tramping around the flood plains of Sussex. Today’s picture was taken looking down from the road between Amberley and Arundel. These are fields in normal circumstances but now resemble an inland sea. I shall be venturing out again this morning to see if the tide has come in any further.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News