A Right Boorish Charley

You can tell a lot about the true nature of a "famous" person when you observe them in the wild, as it were.

I am well versed in the charade of meeting celebrities for interviews, which is a time when, understandably, they are on their best behaviour. You have to take it all with a heap of salt thrown over my shoulder.

So, I was more than a little interested when Charley Boorman (he of the 'Long Way Up Ewan MacGregor's Biker Leathers' and my recent bilious review. See blog Page 956) pulled up alongside me and thudded his crash helmet on the counter at Pret in Fulham yesterday.

As he was at the till, his mobile went off. No crime. But he then proceeded to have a conversation, while lobbing the wrong money at the poor server. There was no attempt at an apology, or an embarrassed plea for understanding. No, Charley kept chatting while fumbling for the right cash, then took off still chatting with not so much a glance in his mirror to say thanks to the girl, or apologise to the people who had been behind him.

I then watched him tear off at speed on his (free) BMW superbike, with his Pret bag swinging from the throttle grip. Unfortunately, he swerved just in time as he exited onto a busy road into the path of a car. Shame, that.

Donald McTrumped

I have just read some great news: Donald Trump's plans to build a golf resort along a stretch of stunning Aberdeenshire coast have been thrown out.

I was up that way for a famous "pheasant-less shoot" last month and walked along the very beach he planned to build beside. It is one of the most beautiful stretches of beach (it has an unusual pink grain to it) and collection of sand dunes I have ever seen in the UK. From what I heard from locals, Trump's plans were gaudy, over-sized and driven purely by money without a passing thought for the damage his resort might do to the beauty of the untouched surroundings.

For once, a council has stood up to the developers and money did not win. Certain London councils - Kensington & Chelsea and the Lots Road development, for one - should take note.

The local Aberdeen farmer who stood to cash in and has been loudly bragging in recent months - "Mr Trump ese nice n deep-lay linin' mey puckets" - should hang his head in shame now that the deal has been tossed in the bin.

Every Little Bit (of Publicity) Helps

ASDA should be giving their in-house PR a nice bonus some time soon.

The chain got some great coverage in the newspapers today for selling Dom Perignon champagne at £30 a bottle.

I have never been to an ASDA store, but when I read that, well, I was nearly in the car within a minute. But I know an offer that is too good to be true when I see one, so I called my nearest ASDA first and had an hilarious chat with a guy in the wines and spirits department.

"There are no bottles left."

"Really? But you have just announced this amazing promotion. Surely they can't all have sold already. How many did you get?"

"Six bottles. We are expecting six more at some point, but no one knows when."

SIX bottles for a giant store. Hysterical.

Give a case of the stuff to the PR who came up with this wheeze.

Virgin On The Ridiculous 2

An up-date on my problems with Virgin Media.

I finally got through to Customer Services to register my complaints this morning. A pleasant chap typed away as I dictated. He then informed me that there was really no point in me doing this as no-one would read this complaint. Eh? "There's no need to read it. At least we have a record of the complaint."

What utter nonsense. And this is a company that states on its pre-recorded phone loop that it is the most popular portal in the UK. W

Er, why?

My Virgin friend then declared that to have a complaint actioned I would have to write to head office. Which I am now doing.

Expect a new email address for me shortly.

A very modern dilemma: Why do we use up so much energy trying to use things that save us energy?

Virgin On The Ridiculous

Right, that's it, I have had enough. I am having to resort to a Blog to get some feedback from Virgin Media.

I know Sir Richard Branson is busy buying Northern Rock, but I really think he needs to attend to this speck of his empire before making his next billion with that building society.

I have been with Virgin.net for years. There was no obvious reason for choosing them, except that I probably bought into the dependability and geniality of the Virgin brand way back when I started email and all this tech stuff that dominates our lives.

I've never changed provider. I suppose it's a but like not changing your bank account - you feel safer sticking with what you know and you can't really be bothered to change

Well, "what I know" is no longer good enough. My email has not been sending properly for weeks. It can sometimes take a dozen tries before a message finally disappears.

Plus, my broadband connection - sold to me as "up to 8meg" is nothing of the sort. Beware of the "up to" words. It is a blag. On a good day, I currently get around 2meg. Whoopee.

But why the Blog? Well, I have been watching my life disappear on emails, lists of tech instructions, and phone calls (25p per min) to Virgin Support. It is a nightmare and I am fed up. What is happening to this company?

In exasperation, I have tried to call Customer Service to complain and get some action. Can I get through? Can I hell. Clearly, the lines are jammed with other people like me tearing their hair out at the poor service they are getting.

Well, I think I have the answer. I have Sir Richard's personal mobile number, so I am going to call him right now and get him on the case.

And if I can't get through, then I will post his number here. I'm sure someone out there will get through to him some time and sort this mess out.

Dear Bill Deedes, RIP

Sadly, I didn't know 'Dear' Bill Deedes. I never even met him. I wish I had. The reaction to his death and respectful warmth to his phenomenal spirit and joyful character has been incredible to witness. Oddly, considering I did not know the man, I have found it all quite moving. Clearly, he was a truly fine chap. What a life. What a personal legacy. Oh, to experience, achieve and leave half as much.

Equally, I do not know Charles Moore, so there is no sucking up agenda here when I say that his fine address at the memorial service is worth a listen on the Telegraph's media player.

Just that.

Adieu

Parking Crime Watch

Please be careful of the steam coming from my head...

It's late, it's dark, half the residents' parking is closed off. You've had a long day. You make a mistake and park in the wrong bay. It turns out that there is a Disabled Only sign up somewhere high, out of immediate sight.

While you sleep, the Morlocks go to work. They give the car a ticket. Then a clamp. Then they tow the bloody thing.

The next day you get a shock, a pang of worry - Has it been nicked by the benefit funded vermin you help keep warm? - then the bitter bile of realisation begins to rise. You have had the idiocy to let your guard down in this unforgiving city.

Then you get the happy snaps of the Morlocks' fine work - and the £260 bill. TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY BLOODY POUNDS.

Where is that loot going? Who gets what from that swag bag of 21st century highway robbery?

The thing is, this didn't even happen to me, just to someone dear to me, but I am still steaming mad with the absurdity, the blatant theft of this system.

The upside is, I have come up with an idea to beat the clampers and tow merchants of this world. I will invite you all in very soon and we can win...

Until then: Don't you dare relax. Keep 'em peeled. Parking Warden crime affects every driver sometime. Don't sleep tight.


London. I love it.

Some Winter Travelling Tips

As I am sure you are beginning to make last minute arrangements for your winter or New Year holidays, can I just stop by with a couple of recommendations following a glorious trip earlier this year.

The Madikwe Lodge safari lodge in South Africa is sensational. Luxurious and beautiful private rooms are carved into the granite of the local rock formations, with heated floors and a private plunge pool. You even get a private outdoor bath and shower overlooking the bush. Well, totally private except for the elephants and lions looking on - in awe - as they drink at a nearby watering hole. The Madikwe staff are fantastic, as is the food. The game drives are terrific and we easily saw many multiples of four of the Big Five (the leopards eluded us) - thanks to our cheerful, eagle-eyed tracker Johannes. What a star - although one lion got a little too close and looked me square (meal?) in the eye. Most memorable sight, apart form the animals, has to be the Mars-red, iron rich earth. I even brought some home to create my own paint. (Exhibition to be announced soon).

Mauritius is only a four hour flight from Johannesburg and is an ideal place for a beach side crash out after an exhausting safari. I would strongly recommend the Hilton. I always expect the worst when I hear that name - an air-con, high rise, business hotel - but this one is part of the five star 'Hilton Worldwide' range. It is stunning and lacks the stuffiness of some of the other five star resorts. I finally cracked mono water skiing, thanks to Tom from the newly installed Mark Warner water sports centre, and I had the best acupressure massages in my life at the dedicated health spa.

Both these trips can be booked via the Virgin Holidays website or by calling: 0871 222 0307.

One last tip (plug): Virgin Upper Class to South Africa is superb. But make sure you give yourself a good two hours in the Clubhouse at Heathrow - just so you are, ahem, nicely relaxed for that strenuous flight.