Big Bubbles (no troubles)

What sucks, who sucks and you suck


up to Northumberland last week, I noticed that many placenames end in “heugh”, which one imagines is the sound made by a Geordie after too many Newkie Browns.

We broke our journey in Alnwick, an “historic market town” (aren’t they all? What does the brown sign for Manchester say, “Monstrous shopping mall”?). There is a vegetarian/organic restaurant there, which is apparently something of a novelty in this cattle-rearing country, judging by the amount of celebrity endorsements from tree-hugging luvvies decorating their walls (Joanna Lumley, Terence Stamp, Carol Royale??!). Curiously, they all said something like, “Darlings, simply super to hear about your fabulous venture, best of luck with it, will have to pop in if I’m ever in the area. PS. How far is Alnwick from Hampstead?” Carla Lane noted approvingly that “animals are the only pure thing we have left on this earth” - as opposed to all those rocks and trees that have been buggered up with additives.

Incidentally, the milk came in those little plastic cartons you find in hotel rooms.