The end of the daily blog

I think the day that this column failed to appear due to the expiry of the domain (fixed the next day, but outside my control) was the first day in 4 years when I began to question whether it is worth continuing to write and publish this daily missive. Up until that point, it has been a badge of honour, something that I had managed to publish every day for over 1400 days , albeit sometimes late.

When Wayne Brown said on Facebook that he had at least 75 people urging him not to renew the domain for me, so that they would not be exposed to the sharp wit and arrow like reviews of places, people and restaurants, plus the illustration of the great characters I have met over the past years, although he was joking, perhaps the writing was on the wall, rather than in the blog.

This column was born to advertise the value of having an account with Currencies Direct for any foreign exchange trades that may be required, and found solid focus in the early years in the ex pat infested land of Valbonne and the surrounding towns. However, an enforced move out of France for me, to Arundel, back in the UK due to unfortunate changes to the French taxation policy (courtesy not of M Holland but M Sarkozy, in one of his parting shots before being shot down himself by the French electorate) the focus of this column changed. There are just as many wonderful characters and places with which I came into contact, but the number of people living in England for whom the moving of money has resonance is, of course, smaller by definition. Now, moving back to Valbonne, and then flitting between the both, as I shall be doing in the coming year, I have decided that the continuity will suffer and this column will change from a daily episode to perhaps weekly, or will appear when I think I have something to write about.

Retiring to sit by my pool

In essence this is the end of the daily grind to write something with some amusement, and something to give the now sadly depleted army of limericists some ammunition to inspire them. 4 years I have been doing it, as long as Max Clifford will have to serve in prison after being convicted of indecent assault, but it is time to hang up my pen, set down my camera, and head out to grass, with occasional returns to the fray from time to time.

Perhaps it is the melancholy that tends to descend upon me when immersed in this 5:2 diet, perhaps the failing figures, now amounting to under 100 a day, but unless I awaken this morning feeling it is all a terrible mistake, or less likely, there is a chorus of emotionally charged demands that I continue, I suspect my blogging days are coming to an end.

Perhaps it is also the strain of waking up at 7 in the morning, with a hangover as big as Chernobyl, knowing that I need to write 600 words about life amongst the idle rich of Valbonne, and at the same time knowing that I have an especially excessive social diary taking shape for the next six weeks. Perhaps the effort will be too much and I have taken the easy option.

I expect there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth, or perhaps there will be relief amongst those who have been most wronged in this column. In the case of The Wingco there will be blissful ignorance (a state in which in my opinion he often seems to find himself) as he has read this column only once and deceived it as “ghastly”.

So farewell readers, I will be back from time to time.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News