Bonjour, bonjour chers fans de Foxy et Roxy et bienvenue dans la rubrique de cette semaine, venant des rivages glamour de Calais. (That’s basically hello for all Brexiteers). That’s right, the Decision Marketing Holiday Bus has actually made it through the Tunnel and now we’re having a little rest before we take on Europe.
There are still some notable absences, I’m afraid, but we are ploughing on regardless and the rest will catch us if they can. McCawley is still off with his missus trying to persuade her he needs a break to bond with his new team, while Jezza Lee and Sonoo Singh are still being wined and dined by adland’s biggest tossers. One of them actually enjoys it, I’ll let you guess which one.
Anyway, just as McKelvey, Roxy and I pulled out of sunny Shoreham by Sea, Spooner rang to say that, unfortunately, he could only manage one night. Apparently Spoon Creative Ltd has just received a major brief and, being the consummate professional, he didn’t want to let his new client down. He also doesn’t want to leave his Death Valley garden to the infestation of field mice.
Mind you, what a night it was. Our happy gang trooped in for pre-dinner drinks and nibbles round at his (no, not that sort of nibble), with lashings of Domaines Ott Château Romassan Rosé – known to Cannes tarts as D’Ott of course – followed by a stroll through Hove to a fine establishment full of Eastern Promise.
Oh how we chortled as we passed Holy Phok (great branding fellas), and the Ganges Brasserie (now that might need a bit of work), and waltzed into Spooner’s favourite, Indiana Tandoori, where we were greeted like royalty.
We laughed and laughed, and laughed some more as Spooner regaled us with tales of life back in the good old days of direct marketing. Roxy was smitten, but I sensed my esteemed boss was ever so slightly jealous that our host had better stories…Bless.
All back to Spooner’s for a nightcap and he even let us crash in his flat as the Decision Marketing Holiday Bus was hotter than Hades.
First thing in the morning, we said our fond farewells and set off for Folkestone. We’ll miss him on our travels but I guess someone’s got to keep the economy going…
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