Jubilee, Cap Ferrat & the DVLA.....


How was the Jubilee for you?  Republican withdrawal symptoms with a copy of The New Statesman at home or head of your local street party committee with Kate and Wills masks at the ready?  I named my silver cat Jubilee in 1977 and whilst he is no longer with us, I remember the bunting and excitement of the punk era celebrating God Save the Queen.  Highlights of the 2012’s long weekend included the poor singers on the London Philharmonic barge drenched to the skin and still belting out their tunes in true Dunkirk spirit. What other country would allow the finest opera singers to be treated in that way with no covering whatsoever?!   

I remarked to my friend that Prince Philip was going to catch pneumonia in the pouring rain on the top deck and within 24 hours he was in hospital with cystitis.  Apparently the Queen and her consort thought the throne seats on the Spirit of Chartwell boat far too ornate, a possible replica of Posh & Becks wedding thrones and in order to save their embarrassment decided on standing for the whole painful four hours flotilla.  At the concert of wannabee knights and has beens, Rowan Williams standing next to Princess Anne was waving his flag with so much gusto, one thought that he had just spotted the second coming.  Stevie Wonder was magnificent until (and I will plagiarise this from a friend on Facebook as I thought a brilliant name) Will. WTF.I.am started singing with the blind man, who must have sniffed out this overachiever at the very far side of The Mall.  Let’s all hope that Will.Smug.I.AM didn’t call the Queen ‘doh’ or ‘dope’ when he shook her hand and he is in danger of giving us all over kill of his opinions and musings.  He must have the same overly keen agent as the over exposed Sarah Millican and Sir Christopher Meyer who are everywhere you look on TV and on a loop surely on Radio 4.

There were over 2,000 complaints to the BBC regarding the inappropriate and mindless presenters, who did not give one historical fact or enlightened us with even a smidgeon of cultural interest amongst the ‘OMGs’, ‘awesomes’ and ‘yeahs’ they muttered.  One idiotic pundit spoke of the hat which Nelson wore at Waterloo rather than Trafalgar.  Bring back the Dimblebys I say with their sense of occasion and formality, rather than the Fearne Cotton’s of this world, trying to interview random runts that they meet in the road who look like they have smallpox.  Oh well at least we all had a better Jubilee than I can imagine Baroness Warsi had.  Or of the saga of the Jubilee jobseekers from Bristol who were duped of their work experience and shunted under a bridge for shelter until their lunch or dinner as they called it at 11am. 

Of course, all this jubilation was viewed from the South of France!  I had been invited to the Grand Hotel du Cap Ferrat and was I going to forego this splendid invitation to get stuck in the Battersea bridge traffic, no siree.  The hotel had the foresight to have BBC1 & 2, ITV & SkyNews so almost home from home.  Whilst part of me found the luxury almost obscene as I was reading about Syria in the International Herald Tribune, (which also featured a front page article on a couple of my deals which was quite cool) we decided not to feel guilty about the outside world for the four days we were there at least.  Who could believe that Robert Mugabe had just been appointed the UN’s ‘tourism envoy’ which is the sickest joke since Gaddafi was appointed to the UN’s ‘human rights’ commission.  Or that Jeremy Paxman upset his viewers after he compared Greece to a ‘bad kebab’.  I read the pillow menu with such upset and asked for two Vitamin E anti-aging pillows, it was the least I could do in the situation of the world news I had just read and prayed that the housekeeping boy had a fabulous six pack.

The service was impeccable, the pool and spa superb and the chicken goujons from room service out of this world and so they should be for 36 euros!  I had a blast around the roads of Monaco & Monte Carlo in the hired white Fiat 500 which still had the Pirelli and other signs up from the previous weekend’s Grand Prix, although the Fiat didn’t quite match the dizzy speeds achieved by Mark Webber.

There is nothing more effective in bringing a girl down to earth from the splendour of resting your head against an oligarch’s chest whilst dancing at Jimmyz, than a visit to the DVLA centre in Wimbledon.  It has to be said that the staff were efficient, one was a complete saint as I was the only English speaking person there and he went around with his clipboard busy being amongst the unprepared throng, asking them questions that they needed to be ready for before they got anywhere near a desk.  One chap from the Far East transpired that he didn’t even have a car and had obviously got off too many stops early on the train, as he should have carried on to the Home Office in Croydon.  The wait was only 20 minutes, in which time I scanned the previous week’s Spectator and ES Magazines for good measure.  My only complaint was that the place was FILTHY.  Aggie & Kim please go to Government departments and give them a good scrub.  Why is that the case and why does the Government allow it? Cultural and not so cultural treats to look forward to in 2012, aside from the blasted Olympics - book your seats now: 
1.  Open Square weekend June 9th & 10th impress your friends with your knowledge of London’s topiary: http://www.opensquares.org/
2.  Elizabeth Street Party – Wednesday 13th June – fun annual mix of aristos, artisan bakers & perpetual wasters;
3.  Royal Court Theatre – seems that 9/10 plays are fantastic – last seen Love, Love, Love;
4.  Anthony Caro at Chatsworth House & Joan Miro at Yorkshire Sculpture Park;
5.   Table at La Bodega Negra – like gold dust;
6.  TV – Grayson Perry on Channel 4 – like him or hate him, the tapestries he created are amazing http://www.channel4.com/programmes/in-the-best-possible-taste-grayson-perry/4od
7.  Margate: Tracey Emin ‘She Lay Down Deep Beneath The Sea’ at the Turner Contemporary;
8.  Sunrise Celebration at Gilcombe Farm near Bruton, Somerset June 21-24, this year’s alternative to Port Eliot;
10. Death to the Kindle – as they say at Hay Festival – books are much sexier and the only reason anyone would need to use a Kindle is to read Fifty Shades of Grey on!

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