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Wednesday

Richard Kelly

The betrayal of Wrexham AFC

For political nerds, the revival of Wrexham AFC, under the ownership of Hollywood stars Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney, has eerie echoes of the history of New Labour. A historic organisation, strongly connected to working-class communities, looks defeated and deflated. A clique of talented smoothies comes along and offers a better tomorrow. Tired of disappointment, the rank and file are persuaded to back radical reform. Internal democracy is swapped for charismatic leadership, drab self-reliance for corporate funding. A couple of years later, the strategy seems vindicated: on a balmy spring evening, the organisation enjoys a stunning victory. Things can only get better. And Wrexham, having beaten Boreham Wood, could now

Zak Asgard

There’s nothing scarier than a panic room

It’s not crazy to worry about getting home. It’s not crazy to lock your doors at night and check that the alarm is set. It’s not crazy to avoid the man who keeps gurning at you on the bus every time you look his way. It’s not crazy to worry. But is spending £50,000 to £500,000 on a bespoke panic room a little… crazy? Probably. But who am I to judge? I still find it hard to answer the phone to a withheld number.    What if your poor cat sitter was feeding your tabby just as your panic room decided to spray chlorine gas all over the place? I could

Zoe Strimpel

Forget the Cotswolds, try the Forest of Dean for a weekend break

The roads around Monmouth are quiet but have their attractions; they cut through valleys and woods, past castles and churches. My host, soignee interior designer Neil McLachlan, explains that this part of the world is a well-kept secret, popular with minor gentry and Londoners in the know but protected from the crowds that flush in and out of the Cotswolds.   To some, Newland is known as the ‘Chelsea of the forest’ – but it lacks the hordes of red-trouser wearers Keen to stretch our legs after the drive from Lydney station, we stopped at Tintern Abbey and met with the medieval reenactors camped on the lawns before heading on to Woofield House in Newland,

Tuesday

John Sturgis

Admit it, the French are better than us

The French, according to the enshrined belief system that I grew up with, are work-shy layabouts. They never turn up for a job on time as they’re too busy drinking wine for breakfast. And once they do finally start, they break off almost immediately for a two-hour lunch with more wine before dithering about a bit and then finishing early. If anyone threatens these unproductive practices, they blockade ports or set fire to lorries full of lambs.  We British, by contrast, have work ethic running through our veins. We fill every unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, as Kipling put it. They ridicule us as a nation of

Monday

Julie Bindel

I’ve had it with awful dinner parties

I’m always a bit wary when invited for the first time to a dinner party at a friend’s home; some of the least enjoyable social occasions I’ve ever attended have been misleadingly advertised as such. The inevitable email about ‘dietary requirements’ has been duly responded to. You’ve muttered to yourself about the time (8 o’clock? Why so late?) and worked out that because your hosts (and I use that word advisedly) live on the other side of London, you won’t be in bed before midnight. And the route is terrible – but never mind, it’s lovely to be invited to someone’s home for dinner, isn’t it? Why would anyone cook

Adam Hay-Nicholls

What you get for a £25 million custom Rolls-Royce

Back in the early days of the motor car, Rolls-Royce would sell you a ladder chassis and drivetrain, but for the bodywork you’d have to consult a coachbuilder and write a separate cheque. It wasn’t until 1946 that Rolls-Royce provided its own. Henry Royce dealt with the oily bits, but when it came to the styling, his patrons had to visit the likes of Park Ward, Mulliner, James Young and Hooper. There were dozens of firms to choose from and the outcome would be a collaboration between designer and client, not unlike tailoring. There was an upside to all of this: Rolls-Royce customers often ended up with something unique, or

Friday

Penworthy

Four tips for York’s big meeting tomorrow

The most likely winner of tomorrow’s Sky Bet Ebor Handicap (3.35 p.m.), the most valuable flat race handicap in Europe, is Sweet William. John and Thady Gosden’s four-year-old gelding is going for a four-timer and he will land a £300,000 first prize if he achieves it. Those canny enough to have bagged fancy prices on the favourite can feel pleased with themselves, but odds of no bigger than 7-2 are not for me in a 22-runner handicap in which lots can go wrong for any horse. Furthermore, while Sweet William is certainly not ground dependent, his best run came last time out at Glorious Goodwood on heavy ground, so the

Julie Burchill Julie Burchill

The terrible triumph of tenderness

When I was a young woman in the 1980s, videotape was the new-fangled entertainment form; on evenings in, my second husband and I liked nothing better than to whack in a VHS and record something off the the telly. We felt like we were in The Jetsons – though seen with a modern eye, we must have looked more like The Flintstones. We were particularly fond of Duran Duran videos – and of a philosophical debate which was first aired in 1986 on the then-sophisticated Channel 4, now most famous for showcasing a transvestite playing the piano with their penis. The debate was part of the Modernity And Its Discontents series,

Steve Feltham

I’ve spent my life hunting the Loch Ness Monster

The Guinness Book of Records states that I have carried out ‘the longest continuous vigil hunting for the Loch Ness Monster’. Others call me the world champion at looking for something that’s not there. Personally, I view it as an act of patience. However you describe it, my world record currently stands at 32 years, two months and a couple of days. I spend my days watching and waiting, full time, summer and winter, for one good glimpse of the Loch Ness Monster.  There is an energy that pours off the Loch. I feel it enter my chest and almost lift me My mission these past three decades has been to film

Wednesday