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British Air from Seattle to London. I quickly changed into a “Carmen”-esque red form-fitting, flamenco-style dress and immediately voyaged with my friend Christian Z. to Glyndebourne to see “Carmen,” which was brilliantly sung and directed, but boasted a surprisingly graphic bloody death scene. CZ (Christian) grew testy after a failed attempt to woo me.
Chunnel train to Paris. TGV to Nimes. Stayed at the Camargue “mas” on the Rhone River, where I’ve spent most of my 20 summers. It’s basically a horse ranch, but the locals don’t seem to like the translation of “mas” into ranch. I think they prefer Gentlemen Farm. It is very beautiful, save for overly friendly mosquitoes. This year, there were also overly friendly swarms of bees, but they merely followed and didn’t sting. They followed me to the walled village of Aigues Mortes and to Avignon and to Montpellier. Perhaps they have a thing for Nicole Miller corsets, or very sweet peach iced tea. The French have just discovered iced tea this year, and it has become the omnipresent chic drink. I guess replacing “le milkshake.”
Back to London, where I attended my first “football” game, with the dashing London-based artist Heinrich Bloch. I was horribly overdressed in the shipwreck-inspired shredded black dress by Canadian designer Georges Levesque that I picked up last month in Montreal, where I was shooting the latest version of “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” with Catherine Deneuve and Rupert Everett. But no one seemed to mind.
I’m flying next to Phoenix and on to Nogales, Ariz., to have my very own cowboy boots crafted by Paul Bond, who has cut, sewn and hammered some classic beauties for John Wayne and Paul Newman.
I’m having a wonderful summer.
Actress Leelee Sobieski has escaped from Los Angeles for a summer holiday.