Well it couldn't last could it? Have finally taken off my rose tinted spectacles and realised that shit happens, no matter where you live. Will try to keep moaning to a minimum but am feeling quite murderous at the moment.
It was to good to be true that the Parisian pest at Grand Duc would stay quiet for long....last weekend she flew at a couple who had just arrived to rent our apartment. They hadn't even entered the domaine to start their holiday yet she was screaming abuse at them and threatening them there would be hell to pay if she heard their baby cry.
She is mentally unhinged so I have lodged a formal complaint with the management company and her landlord. She is the most anti-social beast, she chats loudly on her mobile on the balcony at all times of the day and night and plays Barbra Streisand and - even worse - sings along to it, yet I have never said a word. Gloves are off. But the couple, understandably, were upset.
The next bit I don't understand. The woman client rang us late on Saturday night to say she was disgusted by the state of the apartment and they wanted to leave and have a refund. Er, doesn't quite work like that. Iain went over to placate them on Sunday and said the woman is a manic depressive with OCD, she said it was a health hazard for her baby to stay there any longer! She has taken pictures of our coffee pot, the corners of the room and the shower cubicle citing filth and dirt.
I would be laughing it it weren't for the fact that they have now buggered off with our keys, all our linen and travel cot to stay somewhere else, still demanding a refund or they will plaster the internet with pictures of our uninhabitable apartment. Just makes me even more determined to get that unspeakable cow next door out, even if I have to take a petition around. There's no way they would be doing this if she hadn't ruined their holiday within 30 seconds of arrival.
So, moving onto reasons for living (or not) in France. Shall we start with the bad news and move onto the good news?
Reasons NOT to live in France:
1. In a word, SFR. This mobile phone company (in fact, pretty much all mobile companies) treat you like a convicted felon. I waited a year before signing up for a French mobile and wish I hadn't bothered. The guy at the shop in Grasse sold me a BlackBerry Storm. It wasn't what I wanted but it was the only BlackBerry he had in stock. Should have heard the warning bells then. Three weeks down the line it stopped delivering emails. I went back to be told with an indifferent shrug that the software wasn't good, so did I want to go home and call the British helpline or download the new software with a print off from the shop in French? Well, not really but there was no other option so I did. Spent all afternoon trying the duff number (it didn't work) then in desperation, I somehow worked out the printed instructions and bingo, it started working again.
Fast forward two more weeks and texts suddenly stopped coming through. Back to Grasse encore une fois and my mate the friendly SFR bi-lingual shop assistant looked SO pleased to see me. Explained the situation, he looked very bored and kept saying I could always pay another 99 euros and take another model. Hello? Even in nightmare red tapesville UK, if your phone isn't working they at least try to sort it out without charging you for a new phone. He then said I should have brought it back in the first week if I wasn't happy. The fact that that was two weeks before it went wrong seemed to pass him by. By this point I was steaming, so he just walked off to serve someone else, leaving me with a more helpful but totally French speaking assistant who would have swapped it quite happily if he was on his own. Under much duress, happy pants finally got out a jiffy bag with a huge sigh and said he would send it to be fixed but it would have to go back to the manufacturers at least twice before they will replace it.
My friend has an iPhone and she said hers has come back from repair and now it won't charge. Have reached the conclusion that the French serveice industry doesn't really exist and as for the customer always being right, don't even go there.
Reasons for living in France:
1. Havent yet heard about bent, freeloading French politicians claiming extortionate expenses for moats, mortgages that have already been paid off (the French are a nation of renters not buyers) and porn movies from Blockbusters. The worst they seem to do is have the odd mistress but there is no law against that.
2. The train journey from Grasse to Monte-Carlo. When there are no wild cat strikes, it is scenic, fairly clean, on time (I've only taken a train four times since I arrived, all in the last two days, so I might moan about it sometime soon.) It was lovely ear-marking all the places I still want to visit - Cap d'Ail, Beaulieu, St Jean Cap Ferrat - when I get the time.
3. Arriving in Monaco, a twee toytown invented to make mass excess feel quite normal, where you are just as likely to see a Bentley, Ferrari or Lamborghini as a Mini Cooper (my personal fave, I still miss my cream and black one now lovingly cared for by Melanie.) What's not to like about a place where you can never ever feel under or over dressed? It's a bit like Geneva - quite clean and clinical - but with much better people watching and more kitsch factor.
4. The Monte-Carlo TV Festival, possibly the last place on earth where journalists are made to feel a bit special rather than like something the cat brought in. The free three course lunch every day with copious quantities of wine, Badoit, coffee etc obviously tipped the balance.
5. Meeting my second famous Brad of the last three weeks - that would be Brad Walsh rather than Brad Pitt, a lovely bloke who has never changed over the years and who entertained me with stories of all the famous A listers staying at his hotel. He has spent most of his stay here calling his mates at home in Watford to tell them who he is off to dinner with each night.
6. Being able to stop off en route to the train station at the Fairmont Plaza for a glass of pink Champagne on the roof terrace overlooking the Med. St Pancras' Champagne bar is lovely but it will never compete with that.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Here a year
This time last year, we were packing up our lives in the UK to head to France for a new life. Hard to believe that on Tuesday, it's a year since we arrived. I still vividly remember pulling up on the lane by our house at dawn and climbing over the fence with the cats precariously balanced in their travel cage so we could get them into some shade and fresh air after a hot 14 hour drive through France.
Such a lot has happened in 12 months. Issy is virtually fluent in French while Iain still only knows the basics, the ground floor of our house is completely unrecognisable while the upstairs is still utter chaos and we have had our ups and downs settling in. Suddenly we have a teenager who has more of a social life than I do (hard to believe, I know,) borrows my clothes and shoes on the quiet and sees me as a never ending well of cash advances and a handy cabbie for the many parties and sleepovers she plans each weekend! It certainly hasn't been plain sailing - there have been tough times, disappointments and frustrations along the way but I have never doubted that we did the right thing at the right time.
Lately we have also got a bit more balance back in our lives after a pretty manic few months. The plan was to take life a little easier down here, enjoy the weather, the beautiful surroundings and explore the Riviera and its environs. Instead, life became even more crazy and full on than it was in the UK and after 20 odd years on that treadmill, it was time for a rethink.
It's funny, I think the perceived wisdom is that our life here is all about drinking rose, lying by the pool in the sunshine and wondering which village restaurant to try next. The truth is the shopping still needs to be done, so does the cleaning and then there is the little matter of work but today I actually ticked the 'rose by the pool' box all afternoon and it was rather lovely!
Yesterday I went racing in the Voile d'Antibes regatta with Mat and Milly on board their beautiful yacht The Blue Peter. The forecast storms never materialised but the wind was up and it was questionable whether the race would take place. We got the go ahead and I can't describe how exciting it was to be counting down to the start along with all the other classic yachts in Antibes harbour. We got off to a great start and the boat was flying. Mat's mates were all crewing and they are serious sailors so everyone was doing their bit as they had had a disappointing couple of days at the start of the regatta. For much of the time, I was clinging onto the boat and sliding from one side of the deck to the other trying to keep out of the way as they tacked and guided the yacht into the best position. Mat kept asking 'Are you ok, are you scared Karen?' but I can honestly say fear wasn't happening, it was just very very exciting, even when the waves washed over us, soaking us all to the skin. We were cruising at 13 knots and on course for a possible win when the coastguard sounded his horn and cancelled the race.
We were gutted, especially as we were not far off the finish but unbeknownst to us, two boats had been damaged in collisions due to the high winds, which were getting stronger, and one yacht was completely written off so it was just too dangerous to continue. The mood on board was jubilant nevertheless and we hit the owners marquee for a celebration drink. My white Abercrombie shorts will never be the same again and I was rocking the bag lady look, wandering around Antibes looking dishevelled with my hair matted with salt and sea water (one shop owner gave me a very strange look when I popped into his trendy boutique to try on a T shirt - luckily for him, I bought it!) but the adrenaline rush was amazing and it's a day I won't forget.
I might have embraced France wholeheartedly over the last year but The Apprentice final has just started so a bientot......
Such a lot has happened in 12 months. Issy is virtually fluent in French while Iain still only knows the basics, the ground floor of our house is completely unrecognisable while the upstairs is still utter chaos and we have had our ups and downs settling in. Suddenly we have a teenager who has more of a social life than I do (hard to believe, I know,) borrows my clothes and shoes on the quiet and sees me as a never ending well of cash advances and a handy cabbie for the many parties and sleepovers she plans each weekend! It certainly hasn't been plain sailing - there have been tough times, disappointments and frustrations along the way but I have never doubted that we did the right thing at the right time.
Lately we have also got a bit more balance back in our lives after a pretty manic few months. The plan was to take life a little easier down here, enjoy the weather, the beautiful surroundings and explore the Riviera and its environs. Instead, life became even more crazy and full on than it was in the UK and after 20 odd years on that treadmill, it was time for a rethink.
It's funny, I think the perceived wisdom is that our life here is all about drinking rose, lying by the pool in the sunshine and wondering which village restaurant to try next. The truth is the shopping still needs to be done, so does the cleaning and then there is the little matter of work but today I actually ticked the 'rose by the pool' box all afternoon and it was rather lovely!
Yesterday I went racing in the Voile d'Antibes regatta with Mat and Milly on board their beautiful yacht The Blue Peter. The forecast storms never materialised but the wind was up and it was questionable whether the race would take place. We got the go ahead and I can't describe how exciting it was to be counting down to the start along with all the other classic yachts in Antibes harbour. We got off to a great start and the boat was flying. Mat's mates were all crewing and they are serious sailors so everyone was doing their bit as they had had a disappointing couple of days at the start of the regatta. For much of the time, I was clinging onto the boat and sliding from one side of the deck to the other trying to keep out of the way as they tacked and guided the yacht into the best position. Mat kept asking 'Are you ok, are you scared Karen?' but I can honestly say fear wasn't happening, it was just very very exciting, even when the waves washed over us, soaking us all to the skin. We were cruising at 13 knots and on course for a possible win when the coastguard sounded his horn and cancelled the race.
We were gutted, especially as we were not far off the finish but unbeknownst to us, two boats had been damaged in collisions due to the high winds, which were getting stronger, and one yacht was completely written off so it was just too dangerous to continue. The mood on board was jubilant nevertheless and we hit the owners marquee for a celebration drink. My white Abercrombie shorts will never be the same again and I was rocking the bag lady look, wandering around Antibes looking dishevelled with my hair matted with salt and sea water (one shop owner gave me a very strange look when I popped into his trendy boutique to try on a T shirt - luckily for him, I bought it!) but the adrenaline rush was amazing and it's a day I won't forget.
I might have embraced France wholeheartedly over the last year but The Apprentice final has just started so a bientot......
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Brad Pitt - my new crush
Have just spent the last 12 days covering the Cannes Film Festival - what a blast. It's been round the clock, leaving home at 7am for screenings at the Palais des Festivals, then onto the press conferences for the films and then finally home to write it up before dressing up and hitting the party scene.
The first party was Nowhere Boy, the new Sam Taylor Wood film about John Lennon. It was at the trendy 3.14 beach club in Cannes and was brilliant - fab DJ, champagne and vodka cocktails (altho I was driving so no getting drunk or even a bit squiffy for me) and loads of star spotting - Kristin Scott Thomas, Paris Hilton, Peaches Geldof, Nicky Haslem, Martin Kemp, Colin Firth, Ralph Fiennes, Ben Whishaw and so on. Everyone was on the dancefloor, singing along to Billy Jean and We Will Rock You and I can honestly say it was one of the best showbiz parties I have ever been to - usually celebs stand around chatting politely to other celebs and it's all a bit dull.
The highlight was Quentin Tarantino's new movie Inglourious Basterds, a very clever, violent and strangely humorous take on World War 2 which I didn't expect to enjoy as much as I did. And then Brad Pitt turned up for the press conference looking gorgeous in a cream suit, cravat (strange choice for 80 degrees of sunshine) and sunnies. I was right at the front of the press crush and as he smiled and chatted to people, looking really relaxed and not at all on the edge of a relationship break-up, I caught his eye and waved and HE WAVED BACK! It wasn't like we were surrounded by fans - that wave was meant for me (especially as journos are usually a bit cooler than that and don't usually wave to stars like demented fans.) But hey, we are talking Brad Pitt here, all logic and usual behaviour went straight out the door. It was a moment.
Other parties included Victoria Hervey at Cosy Box, where she told me about her recent trip to Africa and Paris H (again!) at VIP Room, bopping til dawn.
Films I loved: Bright Star, about John Keats, which was superb, Looking For Eric, starring Eric Cantona, which is funny, poignant and has hit written all over it and Tarantino's latest offering. I wanted to like The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus because it's Heath Ledger's last movie and he was a great talent but found it confusing and hard work, despite the valiant efforts of Lily Cole and Andrew Garfield.
So, all over for another year and must say the thought of a few early nights is filling me with joy. (Expecting no sympathy btw.)
The first party was Nowhere Boy, the new Sam Taylor Wood film about John Lennon. It was at the trendy 3.14 beach club in Cannes and was brilliant - fab DJ, champagne and vodka cocktails (altho I was driving so no getting drunk or even a bit squiffy for me) and loads of star spotting - Kristin Scott Thomas, Paris Hilton, Peaches Geldof, Nicky Haslem, Martin Kemp, Colin Firth, Ralph Fiennes, Ben Whishaw and so on. Everyone was on the dancefloor, singing along to Billy Jean and We Will Rock You and I can honestly say it was one of the best showbiz parties I have ever been to - usually celebs stand around chatting politely to other celebs and it's all a bit dull.
The highlight was Quentin Tarantino's new movie Inglourious Basterds, a very clever, violent and strangely humorous take on World War 2 which I didn't expect to enjoy as much as I did. And then Brad Pitt turned up for the press conference looking gorgeous in a cream suit, cravat (strange choice for 80 degrees of sunshine) and sunnies. I was right at the front of the press crush and as he smiled and chatted to people, looking really relaxed and not at all on the edge of a relationship break-up, I caught his eye and waved and HE WAVED BACK! It wasn't like we were surrounded by fans - that wave was meant for me (especially as journos are usually a bit cooler than that and don't usually wave to stars like demented fans.) But hey, we are talking Brad Pitt here, all logic and usual behaviour went straight out the door. It was a moment.
Other parties included Victoria Hervey at Cosy Box, where she told me about her recent trip to Africa and Paris H (again!) at VIP Room, bopping til dawn.
Films I loved: Bright Star, about John Keats, which was superb, Looking For Eric, starring Eric Cantona, which is funny, poignant and has hit written all over it and Tarantino's latest offering. I wanted to like The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus because it's Heath Ledger's last movie and he was a great talent but found it confusing and hard work, despite the valiant efforts of Lily Cole and Andrew Garfield.
So, all over for another year and must say the thought of a few early nights is filling me with joy. (Expecting no sympathy btw.)
Friday, May 15, 2009
Launch at last!
What a week. Wednesday arrived, the day of the launch and everything we have been working so hard for suddenly arrives. We are running on empty now but adrenaline kicks in and suddenly you find the reserves somewhere to keep going. The party was in Cannes, everyone tunred up and the night was a great success. I can't even remember how many people I spoke to but they all said how much they love the site and that means a lot.
Having said that he would drive me, Norma and Sarah (who flew out for one night only just to give their support - I love you girls) home, Iain proceeded to get completely blotto, so just as well that I drank half a glass of rose and one small vodka cocktail all night and was able to get us home. Sarah was in foetal position in the back of the car, muttering about what a great night she'd had for aproximately 30 seconds before she passed out! Sometimes I really enjoyed being sober, especially the morning after. If you want to read all about it, check out www.fr2day.com.
The girls headed off to the airport the next morning, one bright and bouncy the other jaded and full of Nurofen, while I headed off to the Cannes Film Festival for two weeks of madness. Have to say that being in the hub of the showbiz vibe was a real buzz, I have forgotten how much I miss that. Even though I had to leave today at 7am (in the pouring rain) to get to a screening at the Palais des Festivals, there was a spring in my step. I LOVE films, I used to review movies and go to premieres all the time when I was at The Sun and I can't tell you how brilliant it is to sit in a screening theatre and watch a film that the wider world has not yet seen, in Cannes of all places. Special. Bright Star is amazing, all I can say is go and see it, it is beautifully filmed and a real work of art. Early days but if it doesn't win, I hope it is usurped by something even greater.
Met a lovely journo at the very mad press conference afterwards, Lesley-Ann Jones, whose stuff I have been reading forever. We had a great chat about the mentality of the whole thing (staff who don't know where to direct you, a press conference room that holds a fraction of the journalists who are accredited, I could go on but I might be banned next year if I do.) She is doing a piece on the craziness of it all and was telling me about an Alsatian she saw on the Croisette in a bikini and a baby who had been spray tanned with St Tropez by its weirdo mother, who was quite proud of the fact. I know this place is a bit insane but stories like that make you shiver.
Parties are a big part of the season down here too. Have some great invites - Sam Taylor Wood's party with Harvey Weinstein, Elton and Jade on Sunday eve til late, then a screening at 8.30am Monday morning (so maybe I will sleep in the car,) Victoria Hervey's private dinner and party on Monday night and Paris Hilton and Solange Knowles along with MTV on Wednesday (this one made the girls cry with the unfairness of it all as I know nothing about Paris while they know every bit of trivia having just watched Paris Hilton's BBF on TV and are OBSESSED with her.) Oh and D&G's party on Friday. C'est la vie. Livvy did say, but mum, why would they want YOU there? I had to explain that they are occasional benefits to having spent 20 years in showbiz journalism.
Anyway peeps, need an early night so will be back very soon.
Having said that he would drive me, Norma and Sarah (who flew out for one night only just to give their support - I love you girls) home, Iain proceeded to get completely blotto, so just as well that I drank half a glass of rose and one small vodka cocktail all night and was able to get us home. Sarah was in foetal position in the back of the car, muttering about what a great night she'd had for aproximately 30 seconds before she passed out! Sometimes I really enjoyed being sober, especially the morning after. If you want to read all about it, check out www.fr2day.com.
The girls headed off to the airport the next morning, one bright and bouncy the other jaded and full of Nurofen, while I headed off to the Cannes Film Festival for two weeks of madness. Have to say that being in the hub of the showbiz vibe was a real buzz, I have forgotten how much I miss that. Even though I had to leave today at 7am (in the pouring rain) to get to a screening at the Palais des Festivals, there was a spring in my step. I LOVE films, I used to review movies and go to premieres all the time when I was at The Sun and I can't tell you how brilliant it is to sit in a screening theatre and watch a film that the wider world has not yet seen, in Cannes of all places. Special. Bright Star is amazing, all I can say is go and see it, it is beautifully filmed and a real work of art. Early days but if it doesn't win, I hope it is usurped by something even greater.
Met a lovely journo at the very mad press conference afterwards, Lesley-Ann Jones, whose stuff I have been reading forever. We had a great chat about the mentality of the whole thing (staff who don't know where to direct you, a press conference room that holds a fraction of the journalists who are accredited, I could go on but I might be banned next year if I do.) She is doing a piece on the craziness of it all and was telling me about an Alsatian she saw on the Croisette in a bikini and a baby who had been spray tanned with St Tropez by its weirdo mother, who was quite proud of the fact. I know this place is a bit insane but stories like that make you shiver.
Parties are a big part of the season down here too. Have some great invites - Sam Taylor Wood's party with Harvey Weinstein, Elton and Jade on Sunday eve til late, then a screening at 8.30am Monday morning (so maybe I will sleep in the car,) Victoria Hervey's private dinner and party on Monday night and Paris Hilton and Solange Knowles along with MTV on Wednesday (this one made the girls cry with the unfairness of it all as I know nothing about Paris while they know every bit of trivia having just watched Paris Hilton's BBF on TV and are OBSESSED with her.) Oh and D&G's party on Friday. C'est la vie. Livvy did say, but mum, why would they want YOU there? I had to explain that they are occasional benefits to having spent 20 years in showbiz journalism.
Anyway peeps, need an early night so will be back very soon.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Portofino's so fine!
Just back from a wonderful weekend in Italy to celebrate Justin's 40th. He had no idea we were coming because as far as he was aware, I am covering the Cannes Film Festival at the moment (luckily J never questions anything so didn't realise it actually starts next week!)
We kept in touch with my cousin Michael by text and arrived at Sestri Levante, just down the coast from Portofino to find them wandering along the beach. We managed to creep right up on him and he nearly fell over with surprise. It was a really lovely moment and set the scene for the six of us having a fab weekend.
We explored Santa Margherita Ligure, Sestri Levante and Rapallo, which have a real charm about them. Lots of bright ice cream colours on all the buildings and a very olde worlde seaside feel to the towns. The highlight was Portofino - a place on my must-see list for years now and I wasn't disappointed. Very upscale on the shopping front -Louis Vuitton is the first shop you see as you step off the boat - and so pretty but also very friendly. The people watching is superb, we sat for ages sipping Prosecco on the port and umming and aaahing at all the bling!
One night we ended up at Da Beppe, a family run little restaurant in Santa Margherita, where the food just kept on coming at you. Octopus and potato salad, huge mussels, a whole seabass in Genovese sauce of parsley, garlic and olive oil, the list goes on.
The big family party opposite us must have had seven courses and at the end, a guitarist and singer struck up on their table and gave the most amazing impromptu performance of lots of old Italian songs as well as My Way (which got us all singing, much their amusement and they gave us a big round of applause at the end of it!)
The best bit is that door to door, it is just three hours away, which would have got us to Bournemouth in one direction or Skegness in the other a year ago in the UK! The girls were babysitting the outlaws ( a term of endearment Jean, honest!) and despite the fact that they were stranded at the house with no transport, peace reigned all weekend.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
The marathon at last!
What a day Sunday was. More than a little nervous, as I hadn't done so much training in the last month because of work.
So much for the showery, cool, perfect running weather that was forecast - instead it was blazing hot and sunny, fab for the spectators but cruel for the runners. I can't believe that the only two marathons I have run have been in scorching temperatures.
I set off feeling very emotional, there is something about standing on that start line with thousands of other strangers all trying to do your best. Really enjoyed the first 11 miles, ran it all with a big smile on my face and hearing strangers shout your name and encourage you is a very moving experience. Docklands stretch was harder, it's less popluated and seems to go on forever until you loop back to the Highway at Wapping.
Seeing my mum, brother, niece, nephew (who also ran the mini marathon for kids that day) and the rest of my family and friends cheering me on at 11 and 23 miles was pretty amazing, just the tonic you need to keep you going.
From mile 20, it was tough. I had huge blood blisters on both feet (luckily didn't realise until I took off my trainers) and my knees were weak but I thought, there is no way I am giving up after 20 miles!
I crossed the finishing line in 4 hrs 30 mins and 22 secs - 22 minutes faster than my first marathon two years ago - and was so happy I could have cried.
Nell McAndrew, who I interviewed for FR2DAY a few weeks ago, was the fastest celebrity at an amazing 3 hrs 10 mins. Superwoman! And poor Katie Price took over seven hours because of injury, and had to walk the vast majority but she raised £250k for charity so respect to her and every other person who competed that day, as well as my buddy Darren, who did his third marathon.
It's over and I'm saying never again, despite the fact that a few friends have asked me to run it again with them. Don't think I will ever beat that time so what is the point but there is something strangely addictive about that particular race, it really gets under your skin.
So that's it, have enjoyed a few glasses of guilt-free rose since, and it's a lovely feeling.
So much for the showery, cool, perfect running weather that was forecast - instead it was blazing hot and sunny, fab for the spectators but cruel for the runners. I can't believe that the only two marathons I have run have been in scorching temperatures.
I set off feeling very emotional, there is something about standing on that start line with thousands of other strangers all trying to do your best. Really enjoyed the first 11 miles, ran it all with a big smile on my face and hearing strangers shout your name and encourage you is a very moving experience. Docklands stretch was harder, it's less popluated and seems to go on forever until you loop back to the Highway at Wapping.
Seeing my mum, brother, niece, nephew (who also ran the mini marathon for kids that day) and the rest of my family and friends cheering me on at 11 and 23 miles was pretty amazing, just the tonic you need to keep you going.
From mile 20, it was tough. I had huge blood blisters on both feet (luckily didn't realise until I took off my trainers) and my knees were weak but I thought, there is no way I am giving up after 20 miles!
I crossed the finishing line in 4 hrs 30 mins and 22 secs - 22 minutes faster than my first marathon two years ago - and was so happy I could have cried.
Nell McAndrew, who I interviewed for FR2DAY a few weeks ago, was the fastest celebrity at an amazing 3 hrs 10 mins. Superwoman! And poor Katie Price took over seven hours because of injury, and had to walk the vast majority but she raised £250k for charity so respect to her and every other person who competed that day, as well as my buddy Darren, who did his third marathon.
It's over and I'm saying never again, despite the fact that a few friends have asked me to run it again with them. Don't think I will ever beat that time so what is the point but there is something strangely addictive about that particular race, it really gets under your skin.
So that's it, have enjoyed a few glasses of guilt-free rose since, and it's a lovely feeling.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Fetes, Prince Albert and orange cake
What a week. We launched the mag, it looks great, have had a few teething problems but nothing we can't overcome and it's so good to see the fruits of all our hard work finally out there.
One week to go til London marathon, fair to say that I am physically and mentally shattered from working and training. Today I thought I'd sit with my book on Marseille and find out a bit more about it, and promptly fell asleep (no reflection on the delightful second city.) Iam looking forward to it and dreading it in equal measure.
On Monday, we went to the Fete de l'Oranger in the village, see above. It was a beautiful sunny day and the whole village turned out to man stalls, help or just enjoy it. The theme was oranges (this part of the world is famous for them) and the streets were decked with orange bunting and oranges studded into garlands, hanging from the street lamps and balconies - it looked so pretty. Everything for sale had an orange theme, from biscuits, to jams and marmelades and the local vin d'orange liqueur (lethal.) Issy entered the cake competition with an orange, honey and polenta cake she bakes with her best buddy Tabitha but sadly didn't win, even though we all thought it was the best cake there. Her's in the one in the middle, above.
From village fetes to the Top Marques supercar show in Monaco, our first assignment for FR2DAY. Wayne, Lucy, Iain and I left at the crack of dawn to get there and mooched around some amazing cars alongside Prince Albert, who is also a bit of a petrolhead. Then we headed to the VIP bar to have a glass of champagne - Lucy's birthday was the excuse - and ended up meeting a London art dealer and his star painter Paul Karslake, who is the brother-in-law of Rolling Stone Ronnie Wood. Naturally I interviewed him, and as well as being a very talented artist, he was also very entertaining and made a great piece.
Have just heard that the line up for the Cannes film festival is looking fab - Quentin Tarantino, Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt even Bill Clinton and better than that, Now mag have secured me an invitation to the D&G closing party, where all the A list party, so to say I'm a little bit excited would be a gross understatement. New dress anybody?
Would love to write more but just too damn tired - thanks to my loyal little core of readers, please stay tuned and I will tell you all about the horror and joy of the race next week.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
