JUST back from a few days away and I’m full of cold and cough and feeling fed up. The Fisher nose alone could light up Uxbridge.
I blame Jimmy Savile.
My travels (travails?) began in Birmingham, where I had a press pass for the Tory conference, and I felt particularly at home when I spotted Hillingdon councillors Richard Barnes and Josephine Barratt.
My mission was to hear the Mayor of London speak, and to attend a fringe meeting about the future of aviation, where I knew the third runway at Heathrow would rear its very ugly head.
It gave me the chance during questions to remind the panel what this option would mean to our community, including the loss of homes, a school and listed buildings. Sadly, it appeared to fall on deaf ears.
Thank goodness for Boris, who I saw speak twice in 24 hours. On both occasions he came out very strongly against the expansion of Heathrow. He actually said to members of his own party at a packed rally: “Forget it; it’s not going to happen.”
Whatever your politics, he’s a brilliant speaker and, as I discovered when sitting between The Wall Street Journal and a reporter from Spain, he’s one of our best-known – and admired – politicians abroad.
On to Cheltenham Literature Festival – another day, another Travelodge – to hear journalist Sandy Gall on his new book about the situation in Afghanistan, and Pakistan’s role in that.
Quite an eye-opener, and it was particularly poignant when the story broke about the schoolgirl shot by the Taliban in Pakistan, simply for wanting an education.
Finally, my Nissan Micra trundled on to Fisher Junior (FJ) and son-in-law’s house, where Mr F joined us by train. After watching a great performance of the Canterbury Tales at a little Welsh theatre, we were catching up on family news when FJ reminded me how cross she’d been that she couldn’t attend a recording of Top of the Pops until she was 16.
FJ did make the show when she reached the magic age and was later told the reason for her enforced wait: Jimmy Savile.
That’s when I started sneezing.
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