I want to travel as Hercule Poirot does. He travels by train and always sits in a first class carriage. He only stays at the finest hotels -his basic requirement is that it employs an excellent chef. He never has to touch a piece of luggage. People recognize the famous detective everywhere he goes. Waiters and hotel staff cater to his every need. His fellow hotel guests are always fashionably dressed - nary a pair of jeans, flip-flops, or scuffed up athletic shoes in sight.
And his clothes never show a wrinkle.
Last night, in celebration of Dame Agatha Christie's birthday, I watched the DVD Murder on the Links. It stars David Suchet as Poirot and he couldn't have been more debonair. He and Hastings have come to Deauville, France; Hastings has just taken up golf and has booked them into a fine hotel with a fine golf course.
But there is more to be found on the links than lost balls and sand traps. Hastings discovers a body and the mystery begins.
In this story Hastings, although his golf game doesn't improve, does find romance and, Mon Dieu!, Poirot comes within a whisker of having to shave off his famous moustache to settle a bet.
I recently read this clever puzzler and wrote about it here, so I won't go into it too much, only to say that the film adaption has just as many suspects and surprises as did the book. A really big surprise is that, due to a change of characters, the murderer in the film is different from the killer in the book. Oh, well; I don't care. It is always such fun to see the fashions, room interiors, and location shots in these shows that the plot can take whatever turn it likes.
It was all great fun. The only thing missing in this birthday celebration was cake (sigh), and I do love cake.