At times like these when the temperature outside is minus Jesus Mary and Joseph, it’s good to remember some of those halcyon days spent in the sun. Nice in the 1990’s, for example. A private section of the beach only a few steps from the hotel across the Promenade des Anglais. A covered bar where you’ll eat a light lunch later on. Rows of sun loungers, but only a few of them ever occupied. Lazily raising your arm from your lounger for the promptest of waiter service. Having a bottle of Blanc de Blancs, complete with ice-bucket, delivered to you within five minutes of requesting it. Watching the sun glint and sparkle on the deep blue Mediterranean sea. And marvelling at the rich, wrinkled nonagenarian women as they parade, tanned and topless, along the water’s edge and show off their exquisitely manufactured breasts. Aye, days like that. ☀️
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