Gentlemen, start your engines ...

I'm just trying to work out how many days behind I am with this blog. I think it was Thursday and I'd just woken up after rolling in at 7am. Seems to be a running theme!

We went to the beach again on Thursday - unfortunately the weather has gone cloudy and hu,id now, so at least we got a couple of days in by the sea. The beach isn't that great in Menton but the backdrop scenery is spectacular. Coming back to London will be a bit of a let down after this.

I forgot all about Cannes on Thursday night until just now. It was a really strange trip. Firstly it took us three hours to get there on the train (instead of 1) because it was massively retarded. That's delayed to you and me, but the French word seems much more appropriate. When we got to Cannes we made straight for the party, which was a long walk along the promenade, but we got to feel the atmosphere on the way, which was buzzing. It was actually quite bizarre - hudreds of people dressed in tuxes and evening dresses, all wandering around aimlessly like something from Night of the Living Dead!

Gridmodels, on the other hand, had a mission - to crack the Oceans 13 party and steal Brad away from Ange. So off we walked, like salmon swimming upstream. Was no-one else going to this party? The reason for this was clear on arrival. This was the sort of bash you didn't walk to. This was the sort of bash to which you arrived in a chauffeur driven limo or 4x4.

Anyway to cut a long story short, the very thin door Nazi wasn't very receptive to our charming assault and refused us entry. Our faith in womanly solidarity considerably shaken, we suddenly were drawn to the back of the building where I spied a couple looking suspiciously like Brad and Ange sneaking out the back door to a lightning storm of paps. Rushing to see what the commotion was all about, we witnessed the exodus of (almost) 13 of the world's hottest men and women from their own party.

I will say this for them, they are all unfeasibly good looking. And it did lessen the allure of going to the party somewhat, knowing that there was no Brad to bump into inside. Which made the fact that we spent around 5 hours on a train, dressed up to the nines, just for a lovely pannini by the sea a bit more palatable.

So we did get an early night on Thursday, and paid for it with Keith, Mark and Matty boasting about the fun they had at the Red Bull party.

Friday was all about getting ourselves in the press, and then getting ourselves in a mess ;-)

Keith wanted to do a photoshoot, so we first went to Tony's tres posh apartment overlooking the track. On the way we were accosted by lots of photographers and made to walk up and down the street a few times in our bikinis. Being a Gridmodel is just so glamorous. At the apartment ( apparently the most expensive in Monaco - 13 million Euros or something!) the concierce thought we were doing a porn shoot and kicked us out after only a few shots. Poor Tony loved trying to explain that one away. I'm pretty sure the whole porn thing was mostly about Bridget anyway, but to her credit she certainly got us a lot of attention.

Then on to the boat, where after a few interviews and more shots on the way, even I was persuaded to have a few pictures taken in a Gridmodels bikini.

That was the start of a very long night. We had a nice steak frites dinner in town, followed by champers on a couple of yachts, followed by more champers with Matty's Italian mates at Amber Lounge. Amber lounge is at the Meridian Hotel this year, with the club set up around the pool. Of course on a humid night in the Med, what can be done except junp in the pool? Well, Nadine wasn't shy, having had the foresight to wear her bikini to the club. Unfortunately the bouncers weren't as enthusiastic about the dip as all the clubbers, and she was soon evicted.

After some embarrassing attempts to speak Italian with Matty's friends, we saw the sun coming up and decided it was high time to go on somewhere else, so off we went to Jimmy'Z again until the daylight came in earnest and we exited into a mother of a thunderstorm.

As today is a race day, it was so hard getting anywhere, even at 7am. Nadine managed to persuade the rather self-important gate man to let us through so we could get to Trevor's yacht for a snooze. When we got there quite a few other people had had the same idea and sleeping space was limited. Trevor and his wife are real gems though, and didn't even bat an eyelid when they woke up to find their nice yacht had turned into a homeless shelter. Thanks for the hospitality guys.

Now, after a couple of hours sleep, I have to go back to the apartment and get ready for yet another night out. Not all night though this time. I just can't cope!