How on earth?

Cheaper petrol

With the cost of fuel dropping by the minute this may seem a little late, but a couple of weeks ago Chris W showed me a neat little bit of software on his iPhone. Tell them where you are and they looked around you to tell where the cheapest petrol station is. For all my French readers take a look at this. It's basically the same thing but for PCs. Cool.

Get your eyes checked my love

As I dozed in bed this morning, Jan had the nerve to come back and wake me up with a cup of tea. It may well be our anniversary, but waking a man before dawn, with or without a cup of tea, is pushing it a bit. I wouldn't have minded but after she woke me she started barking orders about me going into the garage to get a new bag of dog food.

Now normally I'm an easy going sort of person and jump to my beloved's every wish, but I had to point out to my visually impaired amour that it was still dark outside and that surely the dogs could wait until at least sunrise.

This challenge to her single minded mission seemed to work and she then calmed down sufficiently so that we could discuss things sensibly.

It was a nice cup of tea.

(I suspect that you may have raised a few female hackles my son - Ed)

Anyway, to celebrate 12 years of harmonious bliss (surprising with an klutz like you - Ed), my beloved decided that we would eat out at Restaurant Lennys, in St Mathieu de Treviers. Excellent and highly recommended.

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If you know about the above and if you fancy a laugh, look here. The emails are very funny.

The Palace Theatre Shaftesbury Avenue

When we lived in Windsor, it was relatively easy to pop into London, and go to the theatre. We didn't go that often but as we visited more and more theatres it became obvious that they are all in need of refurbishment. What particularly gets my goat is the amount of legroom you get in some places.

Last Saturday we went to the Palace Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue. Jan booked the tickets before we left for England. To get three seats in the stalls was going to cost in excess of £220. No thanks said my thrifty beloved we'll go higher. We ended up in the 'gods', with a restricted view, for a total of £87.

What a rip off. £87 to sit in seats made for children, in agony because of the legroom, and unable to see half the stage. Because we are high up all the heat in the place ends up around us so we sweltered as well. Frankly I'm amazed that people put up with it. It's a scandal and nothing has changed for years. Despite using a wide angle lens in the photo above, you still can't see where we were sitting, it was so high up.

Things will change when I'm in charge mes braves.

Older and wiser

When I was 14, I hoped that one day I would have a girlfriend.

When I was 16 I got a girlfriend, but there was no passion, so I decided I needed a passionate girl with a zest for life.

In college I dated a passionate girl, but she was too emotional. Everything was an emergency; she was a drama queen, cried all the time and threatened suicide. So I decided I needed a girl with stability.

When I was 25 I found a very stable girl but she was boring. She was totally predictable and never got excited about anything. Life became so dull that I decided that I needed a girl with some excitement.

When I was 28 I found an exciting girl, but I couldn't keep up with her. She rushed from one thing to another, never settling on anything. She did mad impetuous things and made me miserable as often as happy. She was great fun initially and very energetic, but had no direction. So I decided to find a girl with some real ambition.

When I turned 31, I found a smart ambitious girl with her feet planted firmly on the ground and married her. She was so ambitious that she divorced me and took me for everything I owned.

I am now older and wiser, and am looking for a girl with big tits !

Madonna

When Madonna first moved to England, she said she 'wanted to feel more English'.

She's now an unmarried, single mother with three kids from different fathers, one of them black.

Not a bad effort really.

Good effort

As always, it's good to get back to your own bed. The Ryanair flight out of Luton was good and, despite the plane having already been to Milan and back, we left Luton before the scheduled time and we arrived twenty minutes early in Nimes. Credit where credits due. Do many airlines do that?

Anyway, more to the point, the sun was shining!

A final family day

Tim, Sue and their delightful children Emma, Jessica and Abigail have been our hosts for the begining and end of this trip and it was back to their house in St Albans that we went this morning.

Joining us for a typical Sunday roast, from Brighton, were Becs, Trevor, grandchildren Maisie and Elsie and Jan's other son Josh. Mnnnn, good old roast beef and Yorkshire puds. Excellent.

Hakkasan

As usual Cara gets it right. My genes live on. She has expensive tastes and then offers to pick up the whole tab if she can claim it back on expenses. That’s my girl.

Hakkasan is a fabulous restaurant selling Chinese food. Tucked away in a basement at the junction of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road the opulent interior belies the scruffy surrounds at ground level. The food is equally opulent and as it was lunchtime and we were a party of five, our helpful waitress suggested that we order dim sum. What good advice. The food was fabulous, washed down with a Viognier, Marsanne mix from Australia which was also fabulous and which was also the cheapest on the wine list.

This is not the place to go to if you’re thirsty and don’t have a credit card but if you want to taste very good food in modern, silky, sexy surroundings then this is the place for you. Given that we were with both Jan’s youngest Luke, his girlfriend Lydia and my youngest Cara, who kept us in stitches, this was a truly exceptional and memorable meal. Highly recommended.

We then had four hours to kill before the theatre, so what to do? The kids suggested Tate Modern and as neither Jan or I had yet been we thought that it was a great idea. ‘You’ve got to see the Rothko exhibition’, we were told. Bloody hell, getting lessons in culture from your kids.

You have to admit that the place is impressive and it was packed out with people. So many art lovers and it wasn’t even raining. As I was still in a fairly jolly mood (we get the drift – Ed), I was ready for a dose of culture. We had to pay to get into the Rothko exhibition and the woman behind the cash desk was a bit bemused when I asked her if they offered concessions for blind people. Cara thought it was funny but did threaten to ‘take me back to the home if I didn’t behave myself.’ Jan pushed me along, embarrassed.

Look, I admit that I’m no art critic and I wouldn’t know a Matisse from a Mondrian (actually I might) but this Mark Rothko must be pissing himself laughing at all the people going ooh aah at his stuff. Huge canvasses, filled with gallons of paint, with little or no discernible point, as long as it’s two colour and sort of rectangular. The last time that I was so disappointed was when I went to see a Jackson Pollock exhibition.

Either I’m a total philistine (no comment – Ed) or I have a very good eye for the Emperor’s new clothes.

By the way, I enjoyed the majority of the other galleries, so maybe I could be an art critic after all.

Choice

A trip to England for me is all about choice.

We took the train from St Albans to St Pancras station this morning. What a station. It's so impressive, and now that it has been modernised, full of 'I want one of those' type shops and fancy restos. We were staying in London for a couple of nights and couldn't check in to the hotel until 15.00 so what to do? Well, the first thing was to get rid of the bags. The left luggage at St P is not cheap but, in fairness, they have had to buy an expensive x-ray machine, so no quibbles really. The best for me was to come.

We had three hours to kill so shopping was high on Jan's radar. Food was high on mine. We had to eat, so where better to start than Yo Sushi, close to the bag drop. I love sushi (better than shopping) and thankfully Jan likes Japanese food as well. I thought that if I could stretch this meal out for three hours we'd save a fortune (apart from the Japanese meal - Ed), but I knew that Jan could already 'smell' the shops, so it wouldn't be easy.

We didn't make a Japanese meal last time we were over so this was perfect. Lots of Japanese snacks pass the table on a conveyor belt (above) which, from the restaurant's point of view, is very clever and heaven for a pig like me. Highly recommended.

Talking about satisfying a craving, we went back to the hotel and chilled out for a while, before deciding that the next culinary challenge would be at The Red Fort. Jan fancied Indian and the best that I could think of, within walking distance was The Red Fort, 77 Dean Street, Soho. The last time that I was there was when Kevin took Vincent and myself, after a wine venture at Vinopolis a couple of years ago.

My memory was good. This is an excellent, up market, Indian restaurant. Highly recommended.

Whenever I'm asked what I miss about England I usually say not much really. But if there's one thing that I do miss it's choice. However you want to eat, you have choice.

Happy Birthday Your Highness

Hi, it's Jan here. While my lord and master is runing an errand for me I thought that I'd surprise him with a post of my own.

I was prompted to do this because it's Prince Charles' birthday today and that made me think about his lordship as well because they both have so much in common. Think about this:

Both were born in the same year.

Both feel they were born to rule.

They both like being waited on hand and foot.

They both have ambitions above their station.

They both like toothpaste being put on their toothbrushes.

They both like the best of everything.

They both have expensive tastes.

They both have had two marriages.

They both have children brighter than them.

They both fancied Diana (for a while).

And their differences?

Charles is a king in waiting

Alex is a dictator in waiting

Charles dresses very smartly all the time

Alex dresses very scruffily all the time

Charles talks rubbish

My beloved talks sense (well, sometimes)

Charles likes wearing uniform

Alex has a penchant for women in uniform

Charles wears kilts

Alex wouldn't be seen dead in a skirt

Charles has big ears

Alex has neat ears

The ears do it! All in all, I think I'll stick with Alex!

St Albans

Aha. Thanks to that doyen of luxury travel, Ryanair, we're now in St Albans, our base for the next few days, whilst we visit friends and relatives. I'm particularly looking forward to seeing my daughter Cara, on Saturday, whom I haven't seen since January.

It may seem strange, but we spend a bit of time travelling at this time of the year, mostly because we have more time and also to get away from less pleasant weather. What's even stranger is that we go to England to do it. Go figure.

Remember

Along with 20 or more of the usual suspects, we met at 11.00 am this morning, at the village war memorial, to mark the end of the First World War. Something we never did in England. Strange.