In the last film I saw, the male lead was taken by a well known comic actor, playing a serious role as a minor political figure. Both actor and character were challenged to cast themselves in a new light by the piece.
I'll try to use this as my guide for the next few posts here, remaining factual and hopefully a little more linear than I might have been in the past.
I have escaped; away from the daily duties and the commute that whittles me sharper each day. I'm not a renegade, even though I may be tempted to renege on my commitment to return. Merely an absentee, with leave to go.
It's called a holiday stupid!
Stupid perhaps, but how to take a holiday from the literary aspirations and the warmed pew in pseuds corner? I bet you can guess.
I am bound for the Pyrenees to join with mes amis de route for a five ride tour around the Luchon Valley and what appears to be a positive assault on our waist lines by our host.
I have taken the opportunity to catch up with my old friends and neighbours, who made a different kind of escape from the UK six years ago; permanent escape. Chose their own release date and everything!
Right now I am enjoying the comfort of his home in the sun, hearing tales of the French education system and the perils of engaging building contractors in a language other than your first one. Plus ça change and all that.
I am also meeting one of the family for effectively the first time as he is six years old. On one hand he resembles the eldest child of the house, but on another he is all châteaux, flitting between languages in a way that challenges my schoolboy French. 100% live wire, earthed en la France.
Relaxing prior to the cycling is fantastic, but is that really the first move of an escapee? We shall see.