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Chasing the sun

May 5, 2014

After a lovely morning spent in the garden, some clouds appeared over the hills and by late morning a few showers scudded over the pre Alps, so we decided to pop into Valbonne to get a Sunday Times and have a beer. Whilst sitting in the square, with another shower sending diners scuttling for cover, and with blue sky over the coast, I was persuaded to go towards the coast where it was clearer to go sun chasing.

Arriving at Mandelieu, just to the right of Cannes as you look at the Mediterranean, we settled on La Sweet, a restaurant on the beach from where I took today’s picture. There is still snow on the mountains in the far background, a reminder that winter is not long gone.

View from La Sweet looking past Cannes to the mountains.

View from La Sweet looking past Cannes to the mountains.

Obviously it was my fault that a few showers descended on Valbonne. Clearly I had arranged for them to arrive exactly at the moment That Nice Lady Decorator was half way through painting the last of the sun loungers. With beer in Valbonne not doing the job, the 20 minute dash to the beach and the sunshine eventually restored her equanimity and by the time we returned to the garden, the showers were gone and we were able to settle on the previously painted loungers for a glass of something white and cold, or pink and cold for me.

It was over a few glasses of liquid delight, in the sun bathing position, that we finally got to compare diaries for the stream of visitors one must expect when one owns a house in the south of France. It is a strange fact that the very fact of being in such a position down here has a curious effect on ones friends back in the UK. Over there, the willingness to travel 50 miles or more for a visit is often undertaken reluctantly or not at all, whereas travelling 1000 miles or more to where it is sunny and warm (mostly!) elicits a stream of visitors and chance calls asking how we are. Any suggestion that we have a house down here solely to maintain friendships with our British based friends is as hard to accept as it is probably true.

Before the onslaught though, today has been decreed a diet day, despite the fact that I have reached my target weight and with that suntan am looking almost irresistible certainly to myself. That Nice Lady Diet Decreer reasons that, with the imminent arrival of the Savin’s and the Thornton Allan’s, that there is a very good chance that a rather excessive amount of eating and drinking may occur in the coming week, coupled with a dearth of the normal exercise programme, that may wreak havoc with my currently not so corpulent frame.

So hunger and logging are on the agenda this morning. A couple of years ago we had some trees taken down, and the major trunks were just cut into sections and require splitting. Of course a chain saw would have been very useful but as I am, quite understandably, recognised as dangerous with tools and especially machinery, it was decided that I was as likely to do myself serious damage with such an item as I was successfully to teenage the wood into pieces suitable for our open fire. It is however very good exercise, and has the effect of energising my brain so that I can spend quality cerebral time considering how best to put over the message that Currencies Direct is the best possible method of sending or receiving money in foreign currencies.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News

 

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One Comment leave one →
  1. Rev. Jeff permalink
    May 5, 2014 11:53 am

    Just back from a fantastic weekend in Aylesbury to celebrate the wedding of my beautiful niece Amber. Wonderful weather and a lovely service in a gorgeous little chapel in a village called Weston Turville which Chris is very familiar with. I had been commissioned (without payment of course!) to write a poem, which I did and which was well received. Either that or everyone was being very polite !!

    Just seen your limerick Helen-very good-keep them coming.

    Loved Issy’s skid marks comment and laughed out loud !

    Now here’s the thing puzzling me,
    Chris is popular, that much I see.
    But all those old mates,
    Who arrive at his gates;
    Which France are they coming to see ?!!

    Like

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