Maybe it isn't

One of the criticisms that could reasonably be levelled at me in this blog is that I trivialise important issues for cheap jibes. I regret for instance calling Kemi Badenoch a buffoon. She isn't a buffoon. I think she's a thoughtful person who is perhaps more philosophical and less overtly political than her party (which elected her) wants its leader to be. And perhaps they will swallow her up as they have so many others recently. I grouped her with Robert Jenrick, who I genuinely think is a buffoon, and that was unworthy.

It's the same with the small boats issue. I have for a few years - since the matter came to the fore after Brexit - thought that treating the poor souls in the dinghies crossing the Channel, at great risk, as numbers, rather than human beings, is inhuman. Obviously some of these people are likely to be just playing the system with no genuine asylum claims but others will be people in danger, truly scared and at the ends of their tethers.

Yesterday I was guilty of trivialising their plight by talking about politicians lying and not being willing to face up to the truth and say "we can't stop these boats".

But today there is an answer. We are going to war! Not today, because we don't actually have enough bullets, but maybe in 10 years' time when we'll have bought or manufactured....some more nuclear weapons!

If you were one of those poor people deciding where to travel to in order to enjoy a new, civilised life, would you go to a country that is ready to launch nuclear war? You'd probably go to Rwanda, or Fiji, or Australia, where you'd be safe.

Problem solved. No more boats.

There I go again, trivialising. But here's my defence. I have spent my life vowing that I could never support a Prime Minister who is prepared to press the button and eliminate millions of people with a nuclear strike. Even in the face of a nuclear attack on us, I would argue that it would be grossly immoral. Unfortunately I then went against this moral stance by refusing to support the one leading politician that I could be reasonably certain wouldn't take that action: Jeremy Corbyn.

Politics is hard.

Is it possible?

"Stop the Boats" is a phrase that has assumed the status of an impeachable truth - the number of migrants crossing the English Channel in small boats must eventually be reduced to absolute zero. But what if that is actually unachievable?

The number of people crossing in small boats has risen from 299 in 2018 (the first year in which records began) to 36,816 in 2024, peaking at 45,774 in 2022. As the world has become a more unstable place (is that actually true?) massive migration flows from war-torn or economically poor countries to safer and richer ones have occurred. It's hard to see how, other than by long-term changes in inter-nation inequality and the elimination of war, this can be totally negated.

There are those who would claim that Brexit has been a major factor, as the EU's Dublin III Regulation system allowed us to send asylum seekers back to the country in which they first could have claimed asylum. However, in practice this never worked substantially: in 2018 5,510 requests were made but only 3.8% were successful. 2019: 3,259 requests, 8% successful.

Any political party in the UK which said outright "it is not possible to stop the boats" would almost certainly not get elected. Democracy basically requires our politicians to lie - about small boats, the unsustainable demands for both lower taxes and better public services and other issues. Democracy suggests governments should be cognisant of - perhaps even enact - the will of the people. But what if the people are ignorant? Or stupid? Or both?

Democratic countries have a trust problem - ours in our governments, theirs in us. Am I talking myself into voting for "none of the above" again? (Corbyn was the last time)

Things I don't care about

As usual, I was reading the Times today whilst having breakfast in Tesco. A Saturday ritual. Today there are 80 pages - not including the separate Sports, Weekend and Magazine sections. As I skip through each page, I am struck by how little that is written I am interested in.

Front page: picture of Elon Musk with Donald Trump and a black eye (Musk's not El Presidente's). I don't care about Musk, he's extremely weird. I don't even care enough to be sorry for his son, who will grow up permanently mocked for having the name X Æ A-Xii. Trump I do care about because he's a consequential personality, potentially affects my life and the lives of those I care for. The only admirable thing about Elon is his fierce determination that humanity should settle extraterrestrially and his actions to begin the process of that happening. Space adventures are exciting; humans settling on Mars would be thrilling. I just don't want it to be him.

Defence pledge by Labour. 3% of GDP to be spent on defence by 2034. Don't care - 9 years away, governments are generally useless so won't happen anyway. Ignore. Turn the page.

Miliband, Blair, royal gifts, migrant return hubs. Don't care.

Cabinet anger at attorney-general over Nazi remark. Misleading, mischievous reporting; storm in a teacup. Farage with a pint of bitter. Here today, gone tomorrow so no need to care. Limit yourself to one glass of wine a year, says former drug tsar. Seriously, I can understand why my two sons never read newspapers.

Prince Harry.

Russell Brand.

Gerry Adams. Now there's a blast from the past.

Airlifting gorillas in the Congo. A whole page of interesting stuff.

Druids, witches, Sadiq Khan and cannabis, funeral costs.

Have-a-go Jenrick. Confronting fare dodgers and knife carriers. All very noble but you're filming yourself? Not so noble, Kemi will be 'avin' a larf. Slightly care because these buffoons could theoretically be the government in 4 years' time.

Pronunciation of 'mischeevious'. My friend Tony will care.

Teenage hackers and supermarkets, the Princess of Wales (of course) promoting a brand of sunglasses. The royal family sponsored by themselves. No different from Jenrick really.

Page 40, halfway.

La Scala in spotlight after Gaza protest. Teenage Texan wins spelling contest. In Guatemala, archaeologists have discovered a Mayan city dating back almost 3,000 years. This remarkable news gets one tiny paragraph whereas "Kate" got half a page.

Page 45, the start of the Business section, followed by Money, Weather, obituaries, reader's lives - skip, skip, skip, skip - and finally the crossword. Which I don't care about on a Saturday because it's a prize puzzle, which I'm not smart enough to do, and doing it online doesn't have the usual Check (i.e. cheat) button.

30 minutes to browse whilst eating breakfast, a further 30 re-reading whilst writing this. £4

But I don't care; I can just go and check out the Sports section.

Retiring to Cornwall

21 Years Later – A Personal Perspective

By an 81-Year-Old Man with Arthritic Knees and No Love for Pasties

It’s been 21 years since I retired to Cornwall. I made the move in my early sixties, looking for peace and a change of scenery. Now, at 81, I’ve had plenty of time to reflect on that decision — the good, the bad, and the bits in between.

Here’s my honest assessment of what retiring to Cornwall is really like, from someone who’s lived it.

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The Pros

1. It’s Undeniably Beautiful
Cornwall is a stunning place. Even if you’re not one for long walks (and I most definitely am not), you can’t help but appreciate the views — especially from the comfort of a car or a bench. The coastline, cliffs, and open skies are often reason enough to stay put.

2. Quiet Suits Me Fine
If you like peace and quiet, Cornwall delivers. The slower pace suits retirement well — less noise, fewer people, and not much pressure to be anywhere in a hurry. For someone who enjoys their own company and doesn't crave community events, that’s ideal.

3. A Good Place to Think
With fewer distractions and a calmer pace, it’s a decent place to read, reflect, or follow your interests. I spend my time keeping up with politics, watching Ipswich Town matches (from a distance, sadly), and playing the occasional game of online chess. Cornwall gives you the time and space for that.

4. Less Urban Stress
After years of working life and traffic jams, there's something reassuring about a place that moves at its own gentle rhythm. Fewer crowds, less rush, and no one tutting if you take your time at the post office.

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The Cons

1. It’s Not Built for Arthritic Knees
The landscape may be beautiful, but it’s not always practical. With hills, uneven pavements, and very little flat ground, getting about can be more effort than it’s worth. A car helps — but even short distances can feel long when the knees aren’t cooperating.

2. Public Transport is Patchy
If you don’t drive or one day can’t, you’ll find that buses here operate more on optimism than frequency. Access to services, especially health-related, can be limited depending on where you live.

3. Tourists Everywhere (Sometimes Literally in the Road)
Summers bring a wave of holidaymakers, which makes even the most relaxed Cornish village feel like Piccadilly Circus. Roads clog up, beaches overflow, and everything becomes a bit more difficult.

4. Not a Football Hub
As an Ipswich Town supporter, I’m far from the action. Local football here isn’t quite the same, and there’s no stadium buzz or matchday energy. You rely on TV and online updates — which is fine, but it’s not the real thing.

5. Cornish Pasties Are Everywhere
I know this might be Cornish blasphemy, but I’ve never liked them. Unfortunately, they’re treated like a food group down here. You’ll be offered one at every turn — even at places that should know better, like petrol stations and funerals.

6. The Social Scene (or Lack Thereof, If You Want It That Way)
Cornwall is known for its tight-knit communities, which is great — if you’re into that. I’m not. And to be fair, you can keep to yourself quite easily here. But if you're used to a bit more structured social life without the need to join in, it can feel a bit isolating.

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In Summary

Retiring to Cornwall has its charms and its challenges. For someone like me — who likes his football, enjoys thinking over chatting, and doesn’t fancy a stroll or a pasty — it’s been a mostly quiet, scenic place to grow old.

Would I do it again? Probably. But I’d tell anyone considering it: make sure you like your own company, invest in a decent chair with a sea view, and bring your own lunch. 

It's all over

The football season has finished. Ingloriously.

Ipswich Town got relegated, the team which finished 17th in the Premier League won a trophy, Arsenal finished 2nd in the league, got to the semi finals of the Champions League and won nothing, there is no more football until the 8th of August. Awful.

Except. It's not all awful.

Arsenal Women won their Champions League final against hot favourites Barcelona:

Whitstable Town, home town of my younger son, won the FA Vase:

Charlton Athletic, home town of my co-grandparent Trevor, who doesn't like football but panders to my interests by pretending to support them, won the League One playoff final (no trophy) and got promoted to the Championship, where they (on the way up) will meet the afore-mentioned Ipswich Town (on the way down) and Trevor will no doubt refuse to take me to their match at The Valley.

Then there's the Women's European Championships, where England (the holders) are one of the favourites. In Switzerland from 2nd July. No-one has yet volunteered to take me.

So summer perhaps won't be universally awful. The sun has just come out.

11 out of 14

I rarely read the Times2 section in the Times but today I did, triggered by the headline "14 foods you should eat every week (including chocolate)".

I'd be the first to admit my nutrition diet is erratic at best. Superfoods, low carbs, fresh fish, ready meals, pizza, classic pub meals, all have their places. Overall I think (optimistically) a balance of duty and pleasure.

I thought I would try reading the detail of the two page article and was soon into "our gut microbiome plays a key role in metabolising flavonoids to enhance their cardioprotective effects", "rich in oxidant-rich flavonoids, naturally occurring polyphenol plant compounds that are a force for health improvements such as reducing cell damage........". Enough! Just tell me what I should eat!

So here's how I scored on the 14 "essential" foods.

1. Bananas. I'm ambivalent about bananas. On the one hand they give me energy, taste good and are an essential ingredient of my favourite smoothie, on the other they are high in carbohydrates and hence potentially fattening. I give myself half a point because I'm off them at the moment.
2. Oats. I use oat milk in my (pretty much daily) smoothies. I definitely don't like porridge but my daily granola is oat-based. Does the milk count? I say yes - one point.
3. Beetroot. I really like the taste of cooked beetroot but it's too much bother to do. I use pickled beetroot in vinegar (out of the jar) in salads. I'm giving myself a (possibly controversial) point.
4. Black tea. One every morning with breakfast, decaff and with milk. Tick.
5. Nuts. I eat so many (mixed) nuts I'm tempted to give myself a bonus point. But I'll just score the one.
6. Oranges. Satsumas, often replaced by "easy peelers", are my favourite and eaten with my granola cereal nearly every day. Tick. If they are in the fruit bowl too many days they become "difficult peelers".
7. Apples. I'm a bit fussy about apples. The tarter the better, hence there are always Granny Smiths in my fruit bowl. Score one.
8. White button mushrooms. I don't dislike mushrooms but I don't eat them regularly. Nul point.
9. Yoghurt. Yep, always in the fridge.
10. Olive oil. Extra virgin used for cooking. Tick.
11. Eggs. I'm ambivalent about eggs. Occasionally I'll think about them, buy some and make an omelette. But I eat them as part of a Tesco breakfast twice a week. Health benefits possibly counteracted by hash browns but I think this merits a point.
12. Beans, peas and lentils. Don't like lentils. Not sure whether baked beans as part of the above-mentioned cooked breakfasts counts. I'll say probably not.
13. Berries. Like nuts, lots of these, particularly raspberries and blueberries. A definite point.
14. Dark chocolate. Yep, daily. Big tick.

No mention of Classic Magnums, sadly, But a healthy eleven and a half points. And this has made me hungry, so time for lunch. Off to get my flavonoids.