I only got on a plane (eek) and flew to the south of france (oooh) to see the lovely patroclus (aaaah) then. That's all. Only that.
Good conversation with the chap next to me, who like everyone else on the plane was a semi-retired English businessman in his later forties. I'd already been in London for a week without a razor, so I was the sole representative of the tribe of scruffy bearded scriptwriters in their thirties.
MAN: So where are you going?
ME: After Perpignan?
MAN: Yes.
ME: To a small village about an hour away.
MAN: Do you know what it's called?
ME: Nope.
MAN: Can you speak French?
ME: Nope.
MAN: Did you get any Euros?
ME: Nope.
MAN: Is someone coming to meet you?
ME: I really really really really hope so.
Fortunately she did come and meet me, although I was bit distracted, as there was also a welcoming committee of french chicks with guns! Even the french army is sexy! The french army chicks were holding their guns close to their uniformed french bodies, and casting saucy looks down the line of English passengers. Sort of saucy, but also sort of like they particularly wanted an excuse to shoot somebody, so I looked straight ahead the whole time and decided not to make jokes about, I don't know, surrendering and running away but maybe putting up a bit of resistance, and other french things.
And then patroclus (who is sexier than three french chicks with guns, but rest assured that's all I will say on the matter) and I went to a quite posh seaside hotel (steady).
Lots of the hotel rooms had a little tiled mural on the corridor wall, so as you walked down towards your room you got a series of images that went:
1. A nice underwater scene.
2. Some animals.
3. Examples of local food, cheese and that mainly.
4. A tiled mural of death.
I took a photo of that one, as many people believe this blog is a TISSUE OF LIES, so here it is. Death, with his great big scythe (of death), looking a bit tired, underneath a big moon.
Good work the French!
24 comments:
Classic! Puts me in mind of a time, back before the Boer War, when I used to be the Travel buyer at a major booksellers and I received a Christmas card from the AA rep which depicted a seasonally snowy scene complete with festive car crash, AA van in attendance. Really, it makes you think about the true meaning of Christmas. Wandering somewhat off the point, I've always wondered if, when the AA started referring to themselves as "the 4th emergency service" coastguards and mountain rescue people were not perhaps a little put out.
Being from Falmouth, I can confirm that the Coastguard at least were 'quite cross', what with them saving people from actual death and not charging a subscription and everything...
Not only is P sexier than an army of gun-toting French chicks, she's also much quicker on the blogging thing.
Cos she's been back in the UK for a while now...
Oh, or maybe P's behind and she's already gone back to France.
God, now I'm confused.
(I quite like the Tiled Wall of Death, actually)
It looks like the sort of thing where they produced a run of them rather than just one. I like the idea that there could be many more of them hidden in other hotels in France.
Why does he have a little boat, though? (Yer Stygian boatman, Charon, doesn't have a scythe, does he?)
... worrying too much about details again
I think it's supposed to be a reproduction of an actual fauviste painting, given that we were in Collioure (the St Ives of the Mediterranean, fact fans) - and indeed the clock tower at Collioure is in it. But as I don't really go a bundle on fauvism, I couldn't tell you which one. Taiga the Fox might be able to help, though.
Well thats somewhat gloomy.
Yet highly artistic.
*guffaws loudly*
Hurrah! People don't guffaw enough these days. I'm glad the internet is giving it a second wind.
I liked the mural too - just thought it's the sort of thing you'd never get in the UK.
*braces self for onslaught of death-themed British hotel rooms*
Or indeed NED/CHAV-created murals of 'chibbings' etched under bridges...
...no wait; we've got them.
Never mind the death and hotels, tell us about the biscuits.
"Hurrah! People don't guffaw enough these days. I'm glad the internet is giving it a second wind."
I don't see enough people chuckling either. I may have to start a trend, it's easier on the internets though.
*chuckles*
I've always thought chortle had a nice ring to it
Couldn't you have taken a picture of the sexy French soldier babes. I have an image of Ludivine Sagnier, Audrey Tautou and Virginie Ledoyen in vv tight fatigues, pouting and shrugging a lot.
so it's a clock tower?
I wondered what it was. Perhaps some weird French attempt to cool the ardour[sp?] of guests.
Oddly enough, that's almost exactly what they looked like. But as they were armed with the FAMAS G2 assault rifle with bullpup configuration* (mmm, naughty), I thought that pointing any kind of technological device at them would probably be a very silly, and rather brief, course of action.
* just means the rifle's magazine is set behind the handgrip, like the british army SA-80, rather than the AK-47)
Sorry, that was in response to Tim rather than Button, of course.
And back at Paddington station, I got to walk past a couple of coppers with H&K MP5s. Best holiday ever!
Obviously in real life guns=bad and so on, but still, it's good to know all my action movie research hasn't been a complete waste of time.
Again I say; how come you get all the fun/luck/guns ... ooh, now that bit sounded bad. Scrap that.
I miss a good, honest *snigger* myself ...
Seeing a good hat always makes my day.
Would a french chick avec gun and wearing a hat be extra good in your eyes James?
Well I knew the French enjoyed their sculptures and whatnot (in fact they're probably rejects from the Frence equivalent of our Tate Modern) scattered all over their roundabouts and along the motorways, but the picture tiles are a new one on me. Probably because I only frequent camp sites in France and don't get to see inside the big posh hotels. Just as well, I don't want to sleep in a room knowing Death is just lurking around outside the door.
Opps spelling mistakes. Apologies and giggles
i can't say i remember seeing Death floating around the harbour last time i was in Collioure...maybe i was just too distracted by all those wonderful crepes...
Dude, reason #1 for vising James Henry's blog is to *guffaw*.
*guffaws*
I should point out (because of being irritatingly pretentious and pedantic) that saying that Collioure is in France (and therefore French) isn't really correct - technically it's true, but really it's in the mythical land of Occitania, which is Catalan in flavour, thinks of Barcelona as its capital, and has its own language (Occitan, a Romance language that's more Catalan than French), flag, culture, separatist movement and that. Not unlike Cornwall, in fact.
God, I'm tiresome.
Wow it all sounds rather exciting. I like the mural of Death. How mad. Not the most relaxing thing to see in a hotel but we've got to keep a balance I suppose.
Haha.
I was going to say that it looks like Charon cruising down the Styx to Hades, but then someone beat me to it and mentioned it. I'm not sure about the scythe either, entropy.
The clock tower looks spookily like the Albert Clock tower in Belfast which I'm sure none of you have seen. Albert is built on top of the original river of Belfast (the Farset); therefore the foundations are mushy and it leans slightly (like the tower of Piza, well not quite as much as that).
Pointless bit of trivia there.
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