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I’m back in New York: the city that’s perennially offended
New York Goodbye, snow-capped peaks; hello, swampy brown East River. So long, fresh alpine air; greetings to choking diesel…
After ten weeks spent caring for my mother, I had to relearn the art of conversation
I said my goodbyes and went outside with my trolley bag to wait for the taxi. While waiting, I looked…
Professional villagers won’t rest until they have eliminated mud from the countryside
‘Don’t touch anything sharp. Don’t saw anything or drill anything or sand anything,’ said the builder boyfriend as he left…
Why I’ve joined the SDP (and why you should, too)
I was down the pub with my wife last week, out in the tiny smoking section, when a woman with…
The four times I have lied in 42 years writing this column
Gstaad As Emperor Maximilian told his convulsed-by-tears servants as he was about to be executed by the Mexicans: ‘Who…
The travesties competing in the Terrier category at Crufts
Does the BBC suppose that it will convert the public to a belief in equality if it does not, in…
From a solar-powered bin to HS2: the destruction of my childhood home
My mother is a classy lady. I have always known this, but it still affected me in a way I…
Watching my grandchildren schussing down a mountain is what makes me happy now
Gstaad As everyone knows, the definition of serendipity is searching for a needle in a haystack, and instead finding…
I hadn’t had a drink in six weeks but that was seven hours, three pubs and a club ago…
Standing in a messy kitchen at the tendril tip of a county line at three o’clock in the morning, Trev…
Why I hate ‘the n-word’
One of the depressing aspects of writing a column attuned to social hypocrisy is so rarely running short of new…
I’ve contributed greatly to animal welfare, via the casino
A rare British species, a womanising ex-foreign secretary, kissed and told about his brief affair with a yellow-eyed temptress last…
My life as nurse, chief cook and bottle washer for my mother
My fifth week confined to barracks as nurse, chief cook and bottle washer. I drive to the supermarket about twice…
Farmers get treated like terror suspects by the RSPCA
‘What do you mean, you have no ID?’ I asked the farmer, starting to feel dizzy with the mind-boggling convolution…
I’m all for abolishing flying: first-class on a liner is far more fun
Gstaad It’s party time here. From the richest billionaires down to those impoverished souls with only a few million…
The strange people who keep a nightly vigil over my mother
To begin with it was mice. The house was overrun with them. She saw them out of the corner of…
From Swarfega to cleanse and polish: my long path to perfect skin
‘Is it for your daughter?’ said the sales assistant as I pointed to an expensive skincare product. She had glided…
Faithless husbands can be the best husbands
Gstaad Who was it that said we always hurt those we love the most? I did just that last…
‘I don’t know how ever Jerry stands it’: diary of a world war one artillery man
My sister’s boyfriend is a solitary man and easily overwhelmed by another’s presence. On his rare visits he flits in…
Why I could kiss Mark Zuckerberg
Since posting some of my research into the RSPCA on Facebook, I now better understand the way social networking works.…
In Gstaad neither poor nor rich worry about inequality
Gstaad Here in Gstaad there is no worker alienation. Nor are the rich especially worried. The talk is about…
Oscar is nine, and has largely abandoned speech in favour of gestures and monosyllables
Just before I left France, Oscar’s mum sent over a photo of Oscar in his classroom at school showing the…
I can’t believe I went online and found the most adorable lodger in Britain
‘I see you’ve got the posters up then?’ said the little lodger as she came home from work. She’s got…
Why New York loves John Bercow
‘The British political class has offered to the world an astounding spectacle of mendacious, intellectually limited hustlers.’ This is a…
What Sylvia learned at the constipation clinic
‘The whole of my life I’ve had difficulty.’ I heard Sylvia say this through the door, which was slightly ajar.…
My old horse was tough, ferocious and violent – and I loved her as much as she loved me
Under a blood moon, that was how Tara went down in the end. The old chestnut mare sure knew how…
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