It was so hot yesterday I had to take refuge in the forest. The Forêt de Soignes happens to be at the end of my street. It is idyllic and barely frequented during the week, so after a bit of a lie down with Evelyn Waugh and 40 winks, I sat on a bench in the evening sunlight by a small lake surrounded by trees, dragonflies buzzing the lily pads and a couple of ducks having a noisy splash-about, with not a soul in sight. It was like being an aristocrat and having your own huge private estate with fishing rights. I felt like Marie-Antoinette, without the sheep. I remembered a remark by one of my Polish friends in Warsaw, who said: “When I see all the beautiful Polish fruit and vegetables on the market nowadays, I feel rich.” There are treasures in life that are free, and we mustn’t take them for granted. Luckily the heatwave is due to ease off tomorrow, as I am taking the train down to Paris for a weekend of girly giddiness with Allora Gobbi, the Madonna of Merseyside, and her gels. Next week I’ll report on my fifth hearing in thirty years of the - by now - oldest rock ‘n’ roll band in the world. The Rolling Stones are one of life's not quite so free delights. In fact, with the trip to Paris in June for the concert that was cancelled, this has turned out to be quite an expensive exercise. Sir Michael Jagger will therefore forgive me for not sending him anything for his 63rd birthday yesterday. It seems he picked himself up a little birthday present in South America anyway. Such stamina! The man makes one proud to be British.
12 comments:
How lovely!
When we drive into our county town we pass Evelyn's last house and then Auberon's - alas both gone now.
Perhaps Mick is reminded of Bianca?
If you go near Le Pont Royale blow a kiss for me please.
What an exciting trip.
Yes, sad, but Daisy is very good.
I lived in Paris in a previous life and frankly the place has gone to the dogs. However one never knows what might happen with Allora in tow. They could start burning cars again!
If there is no storm on Saturday night we are planning to go on a late night bateau mouche, so I will give your regards to the Pont Royal as we go under it.
Sounds blissful...the forest. Not old Sir Mick jaggering the young girl.
Still, I like the Rolling Stones.
Great verb, GG, "to jagger", or "to be jaggered". I wouldn't say no to a good jaggering, even at his advanced age he is quite a mover.
I'd love some tips from you for my next trip to Paris - some really good groceries perhaps? ;o)
More seriously, why do you say it's gone to the dogs? I always find it charming - apart from the waiters who will take a 50 euro note for an 15 euro bill, say, then pretend you gave them the difference as a tip. And believe me, I look nothing like Paris Hilton.
Have fun!
That sounds like a heavenly way to spend the weekend. Don't begrudge me a little bit of envy, though. This weekend, I'll be mostly power-washing pigeon guano from our garage.
Have something light and fruity and something else warm and buttery for me.
He's a one!!
"It was like being an aristocrat and having your own huge private estate with fishing rights."
But you are an aristocrat, ma'am. Mick Jagger, hoo hoo hoo! With lips like those he could suck an egg out of a chicken.
That last comment has brought on one of my hot flashes. GB, Jagger was magnificent and stupendously fit for an old codger of 63. He can still wiggle his bum better than a chimpanzee with a termite up its arse.
f:lux -- it's got at least six outlets of Starbucks now. That's reason enough.
But the article says he didn't do anything to her. She just wanted a name check. No bedroom action there...
This site is one of the best I have ever seen, wish I had one like this.
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