Looking forward to Defibrillator Island

I had expected rain and wind upon my return from Barbados and whilst the wind came from a different source than expected, rather too close to home so to speak, the rain held off and it was even quite pleasant as we emerged into the unexpected sunlight at Gatwick Airport.

It had been quite a pleasant over night flight for me, despite a poor entertainment system, as I had managed to get some sleep, but it seems the manner in which my constitution dealt with the goat curry and other West Indian delicacies I have ingested over the past 11 days made the flight for some others a little less pleasant. I had hoped to be home in time to go to the Sussex Seniors net practice but alas no. That will have to wait until next Monday, dodgy ankle permitting.

The best way to deal with jet lag is to try to stay up as long as possible and return to normal hours as soon as practicable. Finding that the St Patrick’s Day celebrations had in fact already taken place, at least took the pressure off going out, but in order not to collapse in a heap at 6pm, we popped out for couple of pints at the 6 Bells at Lyminster before a dropping into the White Hart to show off our sun tans. It was Monday night so very few were in, but Terribly Tall Timothy Taylor was, so he had to endure the stories about the Bajan trip.

Is he coming after going to the Atlantis restaurant and then the Barbados wild life place? Help me out here Reverend Jeff?

So that is it, no more holidays until mid April, when we shall return to Valbonne via, rather bizarrely, the Isle Of Wight. Now that I am a venerable pensioner, I have decided that I am at last old enough to venture onto the island of the dead or nearly dead. I want to see just how bad it gets before they nail down the coffin lid. I have been told that it is an attractive island, but as I was merely 7 years old when I last went (almost inevitably taken by an elderly grand parent who was probably contemplating the same scenario as I) I remember very little about it. Defibrillator Island, as I think I shall now call it, apparently has some nice bits, so as That Nice Lady Decorator has thoughtfully rented out our house from 11th April, and we don’t get out Valbonne house back in lovely sunny France until 25th, we shall be on the road for two weeks, starting with heart attack island.

Today, after tidying up some loose ends in my music empire, and ensuring a client signs up for his new account with Currencies Direct (you know who you are and I know where you live), we must journey to Elstead in Surrey for distressing family business. Thereafter I shall be ready for a drink, but thought this would be denied because they were rumblings about today being a 5:2 diet day, mostly as a result of the damage wreaked upon my now portly frame due to over indulgence in the culinary and alcoholic delights of the Caribbean, but with a surprise visit from Sprog 2 (she needs her hair doing, or more accurately a doting mother to pay to have her hair done), diet day may be postponed. As I write I am crossing my fingers in hope.

The rest of the week will be spent in quiet contemplation of the infinite and dreaming of owning a chattel house on the beach on Barbados. I feel a lottery win coming on, so shall make an exception this week and buy a ticket.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News