A few days More at the Euro Championships

I take my washing to the laundrette where the old Italian woman refuses to let me use the larger machine because I didn’t have enough washing – I guess the customer is not always right in Italy. Back to the hotel for a short nap to recharge followed by a very long walk, snack dinner in the hotel room and a relatively early night.

I have written an article for every day though some get pushed back due to space constraints. I am not really enjoying the Bulletin Room. Some of those who work there are exceptionally full of their own self-importance. At no stage have they done anything to make me feel welcome. They have not invited me to dine with them, discussed any of my articles, asked my opinion on anything. This is a well know phenomenon in the Bulletin Office but I find it very ugly.

Saturday is a nothing day. I wake up feeling like shit – sore throat and coughing but somehow feel I am over the worst of it. I go to the venue and watch some bridge and go back to the hotel. Feeling unsettled I go for a lengthy walk around the shops for want of something to do and see many bridge players enjoying their successes or drowning their sorrows as the qualifying rounds have ended. I have written an article for Sunday (which gets pushed to Monday) so go back and have a rest.

At 21:00 there is a Journalists dinner hosted by the EBL President and his wife. It is at a restaurant on the beach where they rent chairs and lockers during the day. All very pleasant and I sit at a table with lovely people who I know – of course the ‘core’ Bulletin Staff gather at another table to compliment each other on what a great job they are doing.

I sit next to a good friend Maurizio di Sacco who had a narrow escape just now. He arrived back from the USA where he was inspecting the venue for 1010 World Championships. He was feeling unwell so they hospitalised him only to find he had Strep infection in his leg. He spent three weeks in hospital after which they told him he was 20% to die and 50% to lose his leg(s). Fortunately he survived both those possibilities but and is working here. I asked him about the rudeness of the players and he confesses that the directors can do more to prevent this.

Next morning there is a meeting of the IBPA (Bridge Press) executive of which I am a member after which I feel I need to write a real bridge article so will have to watch some bridge.

I watch a match and Michael comes into the Bulletin Office to give me some hands and when he tries to move a chair which unbeknown to Michael or me is there to protect a pile of cables the Editor says if too many people come into the press room he will have to ban visitors. I can take this no more as he has had a constant stream of visitors during the past week. I ask him outside for a private chat where I ask him where he gets off being so rude and unwelcoming towards me putting me very much on the outer. He says that I have alienated those in the Bulletin Office to which I say this is hardly surprising after they see his attitude towards me. He says he is happy with my work to which I tell him it would be nice to hear that rather than the constant crap.

Anyway I finish explaining to him what I think of him IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS and decide from now on I will work in the Press room and submit articles by email. I am thinking I may not be invited to work where he is the editor but that is just fine by me – as he is well known to be difficult to work with and I don’t feel I have done the wrong thing but then again neither does he.

Anyway I finish my article du’jour and wander off to do other things noting that the person in question has now become quite civilised.

Back in the hotel I ready myself for the President’s Dinner. I don my suit for its only outing this trip - pain to schlep just for this but I feel uncomfortable with everybody else wearing black tie. I walk the 3kms to the Hotel Royal and have drinks and sensational canapés on the terrace overlooking the Mediterranean.

Who should come over to me but the person above – he thrusts his arm around my shoulder and says he has been discussing the matter with the other members of the Bulletin Office and perhaps I have been trying too hard and we should start over again. He slings some patronising platitudes about the quality of my articles my way and I simply responded that I have told him what I thought and all is forgotten. Who do I sit next to at dinner….. you guessed it. The entrée of pasta with pesto (tomato based go figure?) was lovely and I passed the Dorade (fish) main and finished with the ice cream, nougatine basket and surrounding berries.

Like most functions like this they start eating at 21:30 and finish around 23:30 at which time I excused myself and went back to the hotel watching a TV show before going to sleep.

Next day I have decided to take most of the day off. I get to Michael’s hotel at 08:10 and share breakfast with the eight of them. While I am dining the outside mirror of my car has been knocked off and broken despite the fact that the car was perched up on the footpath on a very (by European standard) wide road. F&*(&k – off to Nice to exchange the car which went quite smoothly and they missed the three other small “issues” I had with the car so all in all I should be OK. I have insurance with the company I rented the car from and two travel insurance policies so all will get resolved and if not I won’t let it spoil my day. My new car is a Citroen C4 Picassa – I WANT ONE BADLY. It is beautifully fitted out including an automatic brake which I discover after asking the garcon where I could find the handbrake – “Oh none he says” and it works a charm.

I mooch around Nice for a short period because I am meeting Adam and Nina Grynberg for lunch in Menton. I am early and they are late so I take the coast road from Nice through the Moyenne Corniche and La Turbie and I stop at a fruit shop I know In Eze. Mercifully they do not use facial recognition here as this is where niece Anna broke a bottle of wine last year. Some Cherries, Apricots and Nectarines (intentional capital letters in respect of the quality and taste of this fruit versus Italian).

I meet up with A and N and unfortunately the garden restaurant is closed for lunch Lundi Mardi!! We walk into the old town and take a table in an Italian style restaurant. Adam goes safe and orders the schnitzel which we decided started the size of a twenty cent piece and was beaten out to the size of a table tennis paddle. I ask for a salad chevre chaud (warm goats cheese) and stupidly ask if the chef can add some crevettes (prawns) to which the waiter explains “if everybody wants sa sa sa the restaurant would not be able to function” a true Frenchmen of old. Anyway a pleasant lunch and pleasant company we walk back to cars and part company. I drive back to Sanremo and go to the Bulletin Office where everybody is quite, well ‘charming’. I ask if an interview with Thomas Bessis would go well in the Bulletin which was gleefully accepted – wow. I interview Thomas who is a lovely guy and you will be able to read that in Wednesday’s Bulletin. I wander back to the hotel and hear thunder so decide to have crocante, bresaloa, goat’s cheese and fruit for dinner and here I am writing this blog afterwards.

Michael’s team (Reid, Jacob, Bach and Cornell) did exceptionally well to make the round of 16 in a very top quality tournament. Knowing Michael he will be disappointed with this but I think it is a splendid effort.

Well there isn’t much else to tell you for now. The tournament finishes on Saturday and I may leave on Saturday as our house in Pierrevert is booked from then but we really expected to get there on Sunday. I’ll play it by ear.

Ciao
XD