Sir Edward Elgar and the Wild Bean Café

So the British Lions are in trouble. I was in France on Saturday morning and found (unsurprisingly) that French TV had no interest in televising the match. Having twiddled a few dials I found a good live commentary on Irish Radio. Needless to say the Irish were greatly disheartened by the O’Driscoll foul, but every cloud has a silver lining for the men in green, and the two-man commentary team agreed that the time is now right for Ronan O’Gara to rescue the series. They might be right.

I find that I’m not the only “ranter” in town. In fact people have been ranting for as long as there have been taxes, politics and sporting events. Have a look at this description of William (Rural Rides) Cobbett:

“The 1800s were the best years of Cobbett’s life. In the Political Register he poured out millions of words of blistering satire and invective. He supported the war against France, but savaged the political establishment, which he memorably dubbed ‘The Thing’, ranting against its corruption, sinecures and jobbery.”

Good man, eh? Maybe I’ll have to form a National Association of Ranters Past and Present (NARPAP). Maybe I’ll have to read the new Richard Ingrams biography of Cobbett.

I’m running out of petrol stations to use. Having still not forgiven the Shell garage at Haywards Heath for failing to provide a lavatory (“No Sir, it’s out of order. You can use the toilets in the hospital, the other side of the roundabout.”), I stopped yesterday at the massive BP garage on the A3 betwixt M25 and Guildford. This is an establishment that sells food, hot coffee and is even licensed to sell booze. Needless to say the “Out of Order – Essential Maintenance” sign was on the lavatory door. If the petrol companies cannot provide the simplest amenities (when you are parting up with sixty pounds of your hard earned cash) then, like France, Shell and BP forecourts will soon be a thing of the past. You’ll just have to find the nearest Tesco or Sainsbury where you get fuel and loos and good prices. Pshaw!

Talking of lavatories I am confused by the rather pleasing word “chuffette”. It is used on the rather rude Fathers Day card given to me by the daughter:

“What Dad had thought was to be a discreet chuffette turned out to be a thunderous buttock-wobbler…”

I’ve tried Google and I’ve tried my massive French Dictionary, both to no avail. It’s good to see people making up words where no other hits the right note.

So what about Sir Edward Elgar? David Dimbleby’s excellent BBC TV programme about our nation reached the Malvern Hills on Sunday, and my sense of national pride swelled with that Cello Concerto, and with “Pomp and Circumstance”. But what surprised me (and I should have known this having worked for several years with an authority on Elgar) was that Sir Edward was a very keen golfer and cyclist (fifty miles in a day being quite normal). Another good man!