Sandlander

I should have known that an element of surprise was in store for me. The idea, agreed by Daddy and Daughter, was that the occasion of my seventieth birthday should be observed in absolutely lowest profile. Dinner for two was to be in Café Schwabing, my regular haunt.

But Jessi had conspired with her best friend, Dominique, (middle photo, left) to arrange the after-dinner presence of a few delightful people I have known for more than 25 years. Although how it can be that Natascha (middle photo, right, Dominique's mother) is still as cute as she was when I first met her (aged 19!) I cannot begin to fathom.

Back in the day Lenny (red scarf), Natascha and I all worked together on a film whose title is somehow most appropriate, The Neverending Story. And the handsome blonde lady in the middle, Isolde, writes scripts for neverending telenovelas. Captain Andy (top left) flies big Lufthansa jets to far-flung destinations; tail winds bring him back, understandably, to Natascha!

So if I look a bit thoughtful it is because Lenny and the others remind me that I should probably, in my seventy-first year, be just a bit less reclusive and enjoy more frequently the companionship of fellow travellers on the path through life.

As for the Daddy and Daughter twosome, it started with bubbly in a venue I should patronize more often, the rooftop bar of the Hotel Bayerische Hof. Just to continue the 'blast from the past' theme... I was amused to note that the bar and spa was styled by interior designer Andrée Putnam, who was part of the clique I ran with in Paris when I was half as old as I am today. Yeah, okay. No more maudlin, self-referential posts until my seventy-seventh. Promise!