Encouraged by various readers, I've returned earlier than I'd imagined. “Help me. Call the police. Get me out of here. I’m being held against my will.” His voice was calm, measured, as if he were reading from somebody else’s script and, like a record stuck, these exact words went on with no deviation, the pauses, even the precise tonal changes were retained. Poor man, stuck in a mind bubble between 3 and 4am, when, thankfully, his mind released him and he slept. Relieved, eve
She said, “I trust Boris because he’s a liar. It shows he’s human, we all lie, so I trust liars.” Could that sum up why Trump and Boris gained power? The problem with lying is that you dig yourself in deeper with each manipulated truth. Eventually the hole you are in is too slippery to clamber out of. It’s why Boris’s election manifesto seeks to make politicians beyond accountability. He wants them to be able to lie as much as they like and get away with it without recourse.
From a luxury house tastefully clad in expensive wood, perched upon cliffs falling to an exciting but over-loved little fishing village, out he walked. He was tall, elegant though in ‘gardening’ gear. We smiled and began chatting and his soft, cultured voice told you he was entitled, that he was powerful, used to being listened to and followed. Powerful, rich, full of health, fit. Living in a to-die-for location in a home in which many dream spending a single night as perfect
He was rude as he walked from my van, even though I’d helped him. The discussion we’d had as I drove him to his expensive hotel, had made him angry. It was an argument they are having in Parliament this October - be American or be European, is profit king or are the people more important? Parliament is being called The House of Fools and around the world people are laughing at our crowd of comics politicians. Yet turn the clock back a short while and this most ancient of Parl
Brexit? Fix it? Or break it? A short blog… A few weeks ago, whilst speaking to a Swedish friend in France, I suggested that Boris could be taking the hardline Brexit lot on a mystery tour which could end in an EU deal. That now looks to be the case. Whether Parliament will go along with him depends on MPs thinking about the country, rather than themselves. In past blogs I have unfairly compared Boris to Trump, ignoring that our man has the ability to latch on to that thing we
We’ve had quite a wake-up call this week and it came out of the Brexit blues here beside a Mediterranean beach. They are laughing at us Brexit crazy Brits here in Europe, but after the chuckles die down they declare a life-time of admiration for our democratic system, though they now think we have gone mad, the rise of BoJo and his floppy Trump-hair being undoubtable proof. However, Boris the clown has been shown to be as empty headed as Trump. But wait a a second, people bel
Nobody in France is surprised by Boris blocking the process of democracy. They call him Trump’s clone and this week he’s shown his colours. With Brexit heavy on our shoulders, we had thought people would be angry with us here this year. Two days after the vote, a friend had opened the door and instantly blown up at us for Brexit. It took some minutes before he listened to his wife saying, “But they didn’t vote!” He was red in the face and he kept on at us, even forgetting to
Every so often a carton sums up a situation better than words and this week I spotted a fantastic one in The Times. It particularly resonated because the day before I’d been talking to a bright young woman who travels the world for work and constantly blushes when Brexit is mentioned. “People laugh at our politicians and I feel ashamed to be British!” Seven horsemen facing backwards as their steeds gallop forwards, each points a loaded pistol at their rivals, but for one who
Many of us face the unpredictable forces instability unleashes upon our once stable lives, but I have always found that opportunities lie around the corner, we just have to be open enough to see them. Yesterday, we stepped off a cliff into the dark. To celebrate, we went out for a pub meal and last thing at night as we lay in bed, we turned to one another. Our smiles were weak, our expressions dazed. We looked about the cosy bedroom, so comforting with the familiar bookcases,
“Throw the lot of them into the sea!”
“Stuff ‘em on a cold island to fend for themselves.” “They cost us a fortune but what do they do for us?” You might wonder who these people from various walks of life are talking about. I too feel the same, but would add that they should be encouraged to live sustainably on that weather beaten island with livestock, plants and no outside help. So who are we talking about?
Well, here’s a clue. Whilst walking through our local town yeste
In the crowded veggi resto, I faced two types of confidence. We had shuffled down the long table to make room for four young people to settle next to us. The elderly couple we now sat beside engaged us in stilted conversation. Loaded with confident formality and statements defining their status, they defined the country I grew up in without any interest in my views or history, but they couldn’t recall names from their two week Kenyan holiday. Bored of the entitled classes inv
Had you landed from Mars, Earth today would seem like a mad house with Trump blasting hot air over there, Putin blasting anything in his way, Britain messing itself up by blasting Europe and Europe damaging its future stability by blasting Britain. And our roofs and gardens are being blasted by ferocious winds caused by our love affair with CO2, yet we carry on as normal, ignoring the various disasters we are running towards. What a world, you’d think. Then you’d hone in on p