Trousers too tight?

When you are sitting in the sunshine on an idyllic beach in Juan Les Pins nursing a glass of rosé with the prospect of lunch with some good friends, it is always good to hear about terrible weather back in the UK. Sandra The Sultry Goddess emails to say how much her and Colin The Pirate are looking forward to a flying visit in a couple of weeks, and bemoaning the awful English weather. She relates that she bumped into some friends in Arundel early one evening who were on their way to the Co Op to buy tea bags. They stopped for a drink. 4 bottles of wine later, they went home with some borrowed tea bags in a doggy poo bag. She did not say whether it had been used but I am hoping for the best.

In the past I have mentioned the French predilection for strikes, but over lunch yesterday I heard about a strike by local school bus drivers earlier in the week. It seems that they were unhappy about the tight trousers of their uniforms and took industrial action. Now this begs the question; are the tailors to blame for making the garments too small? or is French cooking to blame for making the bus drivers too fat? Either way, a strike seems the perfectly natural response. The only problem I see is that, if they strike and therefore do not get paid, would they not then have to tighten their belts thereby exacerbating the problem?

New infinity pool

After a fabulous lunch at La Petite Plage, my favourite restaurant in Juan Les Pins, we caught the train back home and found that The Nice Lady Swimming Pool Operative had created an infinity pool by dint of failing to remember to turn off the hose pipe before we left. I took this picture of Banjo the dodgy dog doing his best to help out by drinking some of the excess water. With the sun out, almost inevitably, we ended up drinking wine and watching the sun go down from the Pav. Just beside it is my fake plastic banana palm that the lovely Janie was once photographed watering when helping out in the garden. It was discussed and the conclusion was that it was looking a bit bedraggled having been out in the elements for several years, and could perhaps benefit from more of her tender care. I think it is fair to say that she was not amused.

With today being a Friday, the market is staged in Valbonne, and unless I can find an excuse I may be required to attend with our house guests, the Savins. I have an email from The Naked Politician suggesting tennis at the impossible early time of 9 am, but that seems a rather drastic response, however, it may be an invitation that I accept. It is not that the market is not good, it is, but familiarity can breed contempt.

Then it is downhill to the weekend with the probable impetus of lunch in Valbonne Square. I believe I may even end up looking forward to a 5:2 diet day on Monday as it will preclude having to have a drink, not that we have much left after yesterday.

The more perceptive part of you, my reader, will have noticed that, despite giving notice that I was going to stop producing this daily drivel dedicated to the excellent foreign exchange services offered by Currencies Direct, that like a bad penny it has turned up again. I am still not sure whether I shall continue to write this each day, so watch this space?

Chris France
@Valbonne_News