A right circus this morning. I have a new Blackberry. A phone that is just too smart for its own good. It worked out I have changed time zones and automatically put its clock on an hour. Fine so far. Thing is, smartypantsphone, that it changes all timings in the Calendar by an hour. So I'm thinking 2.40 flight and its 1.40!! Luckily Barbara calls and sets me right. First panic.
Before that as Simon left, earlier, his taxi says "And I come back at 11?" I say yes. He does, but I have a job persuading him I want to go to Bergerac Airport not Bordeaux.
Halfway there we figure out he was supposed to collect Tanja - our girl-in-Germany - not me - from the LaClariere house up the hill. Second Panic. But clever M. Ali has worked it out and picked up the poor girl.
So no problems really... just me panicking. Well, it was a good party.
Bergerac Airport! A British airport in the Dordogne. Hardly any French travellers. Small, busy and friendly with a much prettier, less clogged up, drive to Castillon than from Bordeaux.
I always remember first using this place when it was just a flying club really. In 1983 we used it to bring in a whole 737- full of Sunday Times Wine Club Members for a tenth Anniversary special 'Do' in the Chateau de Monbazillac.
The Bergerac Town Band were wilting in the heat as that poor pilot circled round and round. We thought there was a serious problem and we were about to lose Hugh Johnson and The Dear Editor. But... it was just the dear Members insisting on finishing the too copious free drinks! That's air chartering for you! No timetables. Good wine!!!
As we drove up to the Chateau, daubed on a wall we read "Non aux Boeings". Well, that little campaign didn't work, did it?
And I write all this because the plane is delayed.
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