Monday
I’m still struggling to master the niceties of car hire when we go overseas for our summer holidays. This year I thought I had it cracked when I managed to avoid paying for a third level of insurance cover – I had already bought two by mistake when I’d booked the car in the UK – after a 10-minute sales pitch from the man at the InterRent agency in Toulouse. But just when I thought he was about to hand over the keys, he said: “You’re expected to bring the car back in the same state as you drive it away.” “Sure,” I replied, only half listening. “That means you have to wash the car and vacuum the interiors,” he continued. I assumed he was joking, but he assured me he was deadly serious. “This is a new service we are providing this year,” he said. I told him that most people’s definition of a service was something that was of value to them, not something that cost money and was a complete hassle. He shrugged. Could he recommend a carwash near the airport? He couldn’t. “But if you are prepared to pay an extra £15, we can do the cleaning for you,” he finally offered. I took the £15 hit, making a note never to use InterRent again.
Tuesday
While most ordinary people try to work out which of Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un is the more likely to start a nuclear war, North Korea stole a march by issuing two commemorative stamps to celebrate its military dominance over the US. One shows a battery of nuclear missiles locked on to the target of the White House, while the other depicts a giant fist breaking feeble, substandard US nukes. Some may think these stamps are a wee bit previous, given the relative military strengths of the two countries. But as the Korean peninsula is likely to become a nuclear wasteland after any first strike by either country, you could argue that it is better to get the stamps out sooner rather than later, because no one will be around to enjoy them once the conflict is over. Better to celebrate a victory in advance than annihilation afterwards. Perhaps Royal Mail could take a leaf out of North Korea’s book by issuing a series of Brexit stamps to celebrate a triumph that hasn’t yet happened. The plummeting rate of sterling that saw the pound trading near enough at parity with the euro and made European holidays exorbitantly expensive for most Britons over the summer? Resolved with the issue of a new £1 stamp superimposed with an exchange value of €1.50. Take that, EU.
Wednesday
For the past 23 years, my wife and I have been arguing over where exactly we live. I’ve always insisted we live in Streatham as we have an SW16 postcode, but she’s always said our house is in Tooting, because we are within walking distance – a longish walk – from Tooting Bec tube station and live on the same road as Sadiq Khan, who was the MP for Tooting before becoming London mayor. Our children couldn’t care less one way or the other, because they have always seen Streatham and Tooting as much of a muchness. Only it turns out there is a big difference between the two. According to Lonely Planet, Tooting is one of the 10 coolest neighbourhoods on Earth. Personally, I don’t quite get it. Obviously I am very fond of Tooting or I wouldn’t have lived in/near it for so long, and I can recommend the very reasonably priced Morleys department store, and the vet in Amen Corner, but I’m not sure I would have rated it as one of the 10 places to visit right now. There again, maybe the rest of the world is more rubbish than I thought.
Thursday
Taking an interest in the Champions League draw is still something of a novelty for a Spurs fan and I found myself torn between hoping for an easy ride and getting to play some teams I might want to travel to see. It was sod’s law that we ended up in a “group of death” including Real Madrid and Borussia Dortmund, but a trip to the Bernabéu is not something to be missed, even though it will almost certainly end in tears. Still, it can’t be any worse than the last time I saw Spurs play Real Madrid in the Spanish capital in the quarter-final of the Champions League in 2011. In that game, which ended 4-0, Aaron Lennon managed to get injured in the warm-up, we went a goal down inside five minutes and Peter Crouch was sent off within 15 minutes of kick-off for the only two tackles he made in the entire season. And in those days, we had Gareth Bale. Hopefully the £200 I will almost certainly have to spend on air fares this time round will prove to be rather better value.
Friday
My father had a lifelong love of the sea, having joined the navy before the war, and he always used to listen to the shipping forecast, which this week celebrated its 150th birthday, regardless of whether he was anywhere near water. Not that he took much notice of it even when he was at sea. One holiday, he made the family sail with him to the Channel Islands in his 24ft (7.3 metre) tub. It was wet and miserable throughout, especially on the way back. Having listened to the shipping forecast, he assured us the conditions were ideal for the return leg. We set off in a nice force four with the sun shining, but by nightfall, the wind had risen to a force eight gale and the waves were taller than the mast. The only saving graces were that I was so seasick, I had given up caring whether I lived or died, and we made the crossing at breakneck speed. We arrived in Weymouth at 6.30am to the astonishment of the harbour master, who couldn’t believe anyone had been idiotic enough to go out in a gale. When my dad told him we’d come from Guernsey, the harbour master said: “Well you’re the only one who has. All the tomato boats turned back.” It was a while before my mum spoke to my dad again.
Digested week: Bloody foreign students. Coming over here to our universities and then going home.