Part of my recent autumnal trip to Europe was to see an old lover. Well he is not exactly an old lover as he is, in fact, younger than me. And although my title may be BPG, I do not consider myself old…yet! Anyway, this particular very attractive man lives in Spain in a wonderful house that he built himself – he is an architect. It is set in the beautiful village of Gaucin and, as as far as the eye can see from his glorious veranda, the land is all his. I have always said that it wouldn’t surprise me if Jesus came over the hillside with a flock of sheep. As it is, goats munch away with their bells tinkling all the while. Superb Arab horses flick the flies from their proud necks. And there’s a long lap pool built on the top of the hill, so you can swim and see the view. The lap pool twinkles nicely – so does (may I say) my old lover.
He is married and his wife is a great friend of mine. And I would never entertain anything ever again. But what I have now realised is that it’s not about physicality any more. Maurice Chevalier’s satisfied smile when “remembering it well” in Gigi says it all. So I sat at lunch… savouring the view, the people and the food. Homegrown squashes, tomatoes and their own olive oil – so sexy! You see I said it was all in the head! We laughed, drank… not as much as we used to… well nearly and caught up. Children, dogs, which of our friends had died, houses, divorces.
There was such joy for us, as we have a history. He twinkled. I twinkled. We flirted. It was all such fun. There is nothing so attractive in the world as a man who knows how to flirt. He does. He is deeply naughty, but never crude. We congratulated ourselves on being alive … able to walk … not needing Viagra…being firm in the right places and still able to do the Times crossword. Sanctimonious, self satisfied old sods that we are but I loved every minute of it. Age shall not wither us! Hic. I’ll tell you about the rest of the Costa del Sol later. Meanwhile ” I am remembering it well.”
Back to Gatwick in the morning