Floods! Which can mean only one thing. Canoeists! It’s almost as if the TV news is using library pictures from a bygone era when the obligatory grinning buffoon paddles in front of the cameras. No need to worry about the warnings of an appending climatical apolocolypse, no, not...

The first cycling shirt I ever had was the back and white Peugeot strip from in the early eighties, I must have been about 10 or 11 at the time and it was probably a Christmas present from Mum and Dad. I remember clearly that just like the shirt worn by the French professional team,...

I have a new job in the West End, which means I’m great, but also means no more walking through Whitechappel on the way to work. Not that Oxford Circus is anything to rave about but it beats running the gauntlet of Brick Lane at 8.30 every morning. I don’t know why everyone...

The last week or so has seen the vortex of politics and violence momentarily slow for viewing, with the four quarters of hypocrisy facing each other in perfect symmetry. On one opposite Piety faces is old office as peace envoy to the Middle East, an appointment straight out of The...