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What we lost with the fallen sycamore

I don’t know about you, but my reaction to learning about the felling of that tree in Northumberland was, well, weird. For a start, unlike many others, I’ve never hugged this lovely tree, never picnicked beneath it, never proposed next to it, never seen it after a long satisfying hike along Hadrian’s Wall, so I do not have much personal connection. In fact, I’ve never even been there. My only knowledge of the sycamore gap sycamore is seeing it in the Hollywood movie, Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, which in turn – along with some later, pretty images of snowbound hills and auroral lights – slowly induced this extremely vague

A second Cambridgeshire tip and one for Ascot

The last three winners of the Bet365 Cambridgeshire have triumphed at odds of 40-1, 40-1 again and 25-1. Earlier this century there were even bigger priced winners: 100-1 in 2004 and 50-1 in 2017. So don’t be surprised if the race throws up another shock result tomorrow (Newmarket 3.40 p.m.). I have already put up one horse – Oviedo – for the race and Ed Bethell’s three-year-old colt looks almost certain to have his perfect ground conditions of ‘good to firm’. However, just as things were looking promising, the big downside is that he has now seemingly been given the worst draw of all in stall one (high numbers are

Save our cigars!

There’s nothing new about Rishi Sunak’s reported proposals to phase out smoking in Britain. His plan has been borrowed from New Zealand’s former leader Jacinda Ardern, whose shamefully illiberal legacy includes the complete illegalisation of tobacco sales to those born after 1 January 2009.    There’s nothing progressive about it, either. The Anglosphere’s elite war on tobacco is at least 400 years old. It can be traced back to James I in 1604, and his A Counterblaste to Tobacco, a sanctimonious treatise in which he denounced the new-world leaf ‘blacke stinking fume thereof, neerest resembling the horrible Stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomelesse.’ A similar spirit informed New Labour’s 2006 Health act,

Arsene Wenger is no philosopher

It’s now five years since he finally stepped down as the manager of Arsenal FC after two decades at the helm – an occasion marked by the recent unveiling of a statue outside the Emirates Stadium of a triumphant Arsene Wenger holding aloft the Premier League trophy. The occasion made me reflect on his tenure at the club and return to one particular aspect of the Frenchman who became such a high-profile character in England: was Wenger really an intellectual? There is scant evidence of great intellect in any of his post-match utterances He was certainly popularly portrayed as one. The sports writing fraternity was so invested in the idea that Wenger

Why Europe needs wolf hunting

In the German state of Hesse, the Christian Democrats have announced that, if they win next month’s state elections, they’ll back hunting licenses for wolves. The centre-right Free Democratic party has promised to do the same. Germany has around 1,000 wolves. Last year, the EU president Ursula von der Leyen’s pony was killed by one. Dolly was a 30-year-old pony and a beloved member of the family, who live in German state of Hannover. Von der Leyen is now proposing to relax regulations for wolves’ protection throughout the EU and animal rights activists are accusing her of seeking revenge on Europe’s wolf population for the death of her beloved pony.

The night I accidentally saved a baby

I was writing a thriller in northeast Laos about 15 years ago near a town called Phonsavan, researching a mysterious megalithic site known as the Plain of Jars. When my research was done, I realised I had to devise a route home to the quaint Laotian capital of Vientiane. As I was driving one of only three rentable four-wheel-drives in the country, I decided to make the most of my mobility and take a more exciting route than the singular main road down the middle of the country (whereby I had arrived). I was particularly tantalised by a sentence in the Lonely Planet guide to Laos which claimed ‘there is

So long, summer!

Summer is now officially over and who laments its passing? Some may rhapsodise about the period between June and September, but for many of us, it is a hiatus and trial, the period of the year we most dread. It’s the bill for autumn and winter, the season we’d live better without.   The pavements of cities seem to fizz and reek, your feet balloon in work shoes, the underground turns into a cattle truck I cannot understand why so many people like summer. It unites some truly awful things: nocturnally whining mosquitoes, hot, sleepless nights, oozing sweat, high blood pressure, and above all, bright, unforgiving light, so you feel

My mistaken Balkan raid

It was September 2001 and I was in Zagreb, Croatia, at the end of two weeks in the Balkans. I was there to train law enforcers in counter-trafficking initiatives: the importation of women from that region into Western European sex markets was rife following the war in the 1990s. Police in the UK had disrupted several trafficking rings originating in the Balkans, and stories were emerging as to the horror their victims had endured. Well into our second bottle, I spotted a group of leather-jacketed men leading several women, each tottering on spike heels, through to the ballroom To put this trip in context, I had been sitting and talking