Superhero battle

Pressure of space, fully to report on the goings in Cannes at a Sunday lunch or munch on the beach in this fun packed column, has resulted in you getting a less than fulsome description so far of all the events that took place at the excellent Rado Plage at lunch and afterwards. Regular readers will be aware that we were lunching on the beach in Cannes in the rain, and being entertained not only by the ebullient Peachy Butterfield, but also the brooding Latin presence of monosyllabic, French, rugby-playing, smouldering and menacing Chabal look-alike, Gerald from Blue Square Estate agents, his lovely wife and very senior Currencies Direct operative Pippa Maile, and last but by no men’s least the stunning Sam Watson from Onboard Online, who is so far-sighted that she has employed my good self to write material for her website. The very first one is published today, so read about my opinion of the north.

We had enjoyed a particularly convivial lunch during the MIDEM conference and were looking forward to dropping in at Morrison’s to watch the Ireland v Scotland 6 nations match about which I had waxed lyrical during lunch. That it had in fact started some two hours earlier than I had expected and was nearing the end by the time we arrived matters not a jot. It was a simple logistical error that anyone could have made, but it was worse for me, because I made it.

On the way from restaurant to bar (which seems to be the story of my life), we had come across a super hero altercation taking place on the beach, a picture of which I featured yesterday. I have been thinking about why Superman and Lara Croft might be battling it out on the beach in the south of France, but so far have drawn a blank. It set the scene for the battle between two other heroes in respect of north versus south.

Good versus, err…good

I think it was Peachy, who being from up north, feels poverty more keenly than most of the rest of the party, who said it. We were talking about the relative merits of living in the south of England as opposed to the north (that assumes that one is unable to live in the south of France), which is the subject of mine and Peachy’s banter blogs, soon to be published on Onboard Online. Peachy felt that their should be some medical option against being poor and said” I want to be inoculated against poverty. In fact I need a cash injection”.

One last skirmish at the Palais Des Festivals for MIDEM yesterday morning and then off to the airport, courtesy of Sprog 2, via Chez Pannisse, a nice little beachside restaurant almost within sight of the runway. A couple of glasses of wine at lunch was an excellent restorative after a very heavy weekend and That Nice Lady Decorator was looking forward to her customary pint of Guinness in the bar at Terminal 1, but in a very short-sighted change of policy, only gassy lager was available, so we went to the executive lounge for a glass or two of wine to await the call to board. No sooner had we sat down that John “800 Years Of Repression” O Sullivan appeared. Over a drink he revealed that he had not smoked a decent cigar in some time, and suggested the reason was that I had not been around in Valbonne so much over the past year, thus supplies were scarce. He has clearly not found the Tobacconist in the village with a very decent humidor…

Chris France
@Valbonne_News