'More than anything he was great fun' - memories of Mister Desmond

It will be 11 years this week since I packed up my London life to head for Paris and the anniversary will be tinged with all sorts of sadness following the news that Desmond Stoneham, the man I gradually took over from, died at the age of 79 last Sunday.

The very first photo taken on my shiny new French phone all those years ago was of a magnificent potted hydrangea, delivered the day we moved in and which was for many months the only sign of life on the apartment balcony.

It was the first of a thousand small kindnesses performed by Desmond and his wife Evelyne, who went out of their way to make us feel at home, as well as doing the painstaking work of introducing me to the leading trainers, jockeys, owners reps and administrators.