In the land of Shakespeare

I have just spent two weeks in France and experienced the glories of French food. We had some great seafood across France particularly in Sete, which is a seaside/fishing harbour near Montpellier. Our best meal was undoubtedly at Chateau Carlmagnus, the Fronsac winery, with great food, glorious wine and a spectacular view. In Paris a special mention should go to Huguette, a seafood restaurant in St.Germain where you can eat a wide variety of seafood including platters of shellfish. We were lucky to get in as the locals often book it weeks in advance, but with the heatwave many Parisians had hunkered down or left Paris.

Finally, I should mention Le Relais de l‘Entrecote, again in St.Germain. It takes no bookings and everyone has to queue outside until it opens at 6.30pm (great in 39C). There is only one meal on the menu: steak with house sauce, frites and salad. If you do not like it then tough but at EU29 what is not to like. Service is super-fast by waitresses in black dresses and white pinnies so much so that I had just been given my first drink when the salad arrived. You can have as many portions as you like and the two young men next to us had three portions followed by chocolate gateau. Oh, to be young again.

***

Visiting a gallery in Sete we came across a mannequin exhibit with this description: ‘She invents figures whose poses and appearances contrast with the standardisation of capitalism’s commodified bodies.’ Couldn’t see the point myself but yet again we are presented with the trendy arty view that capitalism is bad.

Well, I have news for creatives for without capitalism we would still be in the fields. Capitalism has given Western societies high standards of living, longer life expectancies, jobs and produced taxes to pay for health, public services and welfare. Emerging societies are following suit with many hundreds of millions already dragged out of poverty in the last 20 years alone. Without capitalism none of this would exist and there would be nobody to buy this artist’s work. While all creatives should be shining a light on societies, the human condition and behaviour, taking aim at capitalism as a whole is facile, misguided and redolent of student grandstanding. Please stop.

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Leaving France via the rabbit warren that is Charles de Gaulle airport I was indulged in some nostalgia. The airport has not invested in new body-scanners, so my false knees set off alarms and I was subject to an overly rigorous full frisking by a security guard, who had clearly met his calling. I grew misty-eyed as I remembered a similar frisking at Melbourne Airport where I was asked if I would like ‘to do this in a private room.’ I wondered if I would have the option at Charles de Gaulle, but sadly I was disappointed.

***

Have you heard the latest England soccer fans’s chant at the Soccer World Cup? ‘He’s fat…with piles…he’s in the Epstein files…Trump’s a c..t…Trump’s a c..t…’ Only in the land of Shakespeare. Sometimes it makes you proud to be British.

Jesus wants me for a sunbeam

It is that time in the cycle again. Every two years the government sends me a bowel cancer testing kit with which I am meant to return a faecal sample. The problem is I have lost the test kit and the return envelope. Undeterred I have laid a deposit in a normal envelope and I have sellotaped it as best as I can. There is a little seepage from the sides, but I am sure Australia Post can handle that. Not knowing where to send it, I have sent it to the Prime Minister’s office as our newly elected Prime Minister seems to have a solution to all of Australia’s problems. I am sure he must know the relevant department. I’m hoping for confirmation of receipt.

***

I recently had the chance to go to a ZZ Top concert, which for all who know me must surely regard as an aberration. Always game for source material I was undeterred in putting on my sensation seeker’s hat. I was looking forward to it as I had listened to ‘Gimme all your lovin’. It was the first time I had been to a concert of contemporary music as my usual gig, if you will excuse the pun, has been classical concerts including opera and ballet. My fellow concertgoers were slack-jawed when I told them it was my first time. It was if I had just admitted to being a virgin. Each to his own.

It was certainly throwback time. There were a lot of aged rockers, both on and off stage, while numerous rocker chicks, both young and old, wore jeans far too tight for them. As ZZ Top has been visiting Adelaide since 1981 some of their original supporters had turned up, beards and all, with younger members of their family trying to emulate their granddads. You do not often see that in modern society, but this was clearly a family event. I was impressed by the number of ZZ Top beards given their scarcity in the circles in which I move. Where these people live, I know not. Clearly not the eastern suburbs.

Ahead of sitting down I inserted earplugs, but on second thoughts I added two others just to make sure. I am now waiting to get them surgically removed at the end of June. An eight week wait, but that is why you pay for private health insurance. The first act was George Thorogood and the Destroyers. They all had surprisingly good heads of hair even though they were all 72. Though not all was well with their bodies. The bass guitarist at one stage had his legs spread so wide he seemed to be attempting the splits. Either that or his hips had locked. After 10 minutes, having been immobile from the hips down, we knew his hips had actually locked. Their session ended early so he could be taken off.

Returning to our seats post interval, the stage was literally a wall of speakers. With two sets of earplugs in place I felt confident I could survive. I had not reckoned on the G-force of the blast. I looked round and it all looked as if we were all skydiving as the flesh of our faces was flattened. A few days later I was asked what the concert was like. ‘LOUD. VERY LOUD.’ My questioner could not understand why I was shouting.

Jesus wants me for a sunbeam

It is that time in the cycle again. Every two years the government sends me a bowel cancer testing kit with which I am meant to return a faecal sample. The problem is I have lost the test kit and the return envelope. Undeterred I have laid a deposit in a normal envelope and I have sellotaped it as best as I can. There is a little seepage from the sides, but I am sure Australia Post can handle that. Not knowing where to send it, I have sent it to the Prime Minister’s office as our newly elected Prime Minister seems to have a solution to all of Australia’s problems. I am sure he must know the relevant department. I’m hoping for confirmation of receipt.

***

I recently had the chance to go to a ZZ Top concert, which for all who know me must surely regard as an aberration. Always game for source material I was undeterred in putting on my sensation seeker’s hat. I was looking forward to it as I had listened to ‘Gimme all your lovin’. It was the first time I had been to a concert of contemporary music as my usual gig, if you will excuse the pun, has been classical concerts including opera and ballet. My fellow concertgoers were slack-jawed when I told them it was my first time. It was if I had just admitted to being a virgin. Each to his own.

It was certainly throwback time. There were a lot of aged rockers, both on and off stage, while numerous rocker chicks, both young and old, wore jeans far too tight for them. As ZZ Top has been visiting Adelaide since 1981 some of their original supporters had turned up, beards and all, with younger members of their family trying to emulate their granddads. You do not often see that in modern society, but this was clearly a family event. I was impressed by the number of ZZ Top beards given their scarcity in the circles in which I move. Where these people live, I know not. Clearly not the eastern suburbs.

Ahead of sitting down I inserted earplugs, but on second thoughts I added two others just to make sure. I am now waiting to get them surgically removed at the end of June. An eight week wait, but that is why you pay for private health insurance. The first act was George Thorogood and the Destroyers. They all had surprisingly good heads of hair even though they were all 72. Though not all was well with their bodies. The bass guitarist at one stage had his legs spread so wide he seemed to be attempting the splits. Either that or his hips had locked. After 10 minutes, having been immobile from the hips down, we knew his hips had actually locked. Their session ended early so he could be taken off.

Returning to our seats post interval, the stage was literally a wall of speakers. With two sets of earplugs in place I felt confident I could survive. I had not reckoned on the G-force of the blast. I looked round and it all looked as if we were all skydiving as the flesh of our faces was flattened. A few days later I was asked what the concert was like. ‘LOUD. VERY LOUD.’ My questioner could not understand why I was shouting.