SHED THIS DAFT RED TAPE
If an Englishman’s home is his castle, his shed is his private retreat. It’s where he can shut himself off from the busy, futile world and do owt about nowt.
And nowhere more so than in traditional mining communities, where shed-making is a fine art.
Nobody should interfere with this basic human right, but the planning planks of Northumberland County Council think otherwise. They demand backdated permission for sheds older than four years in the former pit village of Lynemouth – or demolition.
Villagers are up in arms. I wish them well in their fight against the bullying bureaucrats of Morpeth.
After its go-to holiday presenter decided she wanted to put her sea legs up on her favourite pouffe for a while, Channel 5 was left with a Friday night travel slot to fill.
So, instead of Cruising With Jane McDonald, we now have Bruising With Gregg Wallace.
OK, Channel 5’s schedulers haven’t really called it that – although, given Gregg’s somewhat brusque presenting manner, part of me wishes they had.
They’ve gone with Big Weekends With Gregg Wallace, in which everyone’s favourite shouty TV host hops around Europe’s major weekend break destinations dragging a gigantic wheelie suitcase along by his side. No, I don’t know why he wheels it like that either. Maybe it’s a friend substitute. Or perhaps it’s full of pricedup tins of peaches and carrots (you can take the man out of the fruit and veg market...)
First up Gregg was in Barcelona, where in between shouting “Woah!”, “That’s amaaaayzin!” and “That. Is. Exxxxtrordinaaaary!”, Gregg attempted to immerse himself in Catalan culture.
Step one was, of course, a trip to the city’s most famous landmark, the Basilica de la Sagrada Familia.
“Or, to me and you,” Gregg chirped. “The Basilica of the Sacred Family.” You wot, mate? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone translate its name into English before. What are you going to do when you visit Paris – pop in for a night of dancing and cabaret at the legendary “Red Windmill”?
Gregg’s next mission was to learn to paint like Pablo Picasso. This started badly when his teacher began to paint Gregg’s portrait and committed to canvas what looked like a giant orangeyyellow balloon with shoulders. The subsequent addition of a pair of black-framed bi-focals did little to soften the blow.
Still, Gregg wasn’t going to let anything spoil his fun. And, to give him his due, his overexaggerated enthusiasm did help the hour fly by.
Tonight he’s in Rome where he visits a large outdoor entertainment venue (or, to me and you, the Colosseum), and shares this view on the local culture: “I only listen to opera when I’m in Rome. It just seems to make sense there.” I’m the same with The Proclaimers, Gregg. For me it’s Leith or nothing.
Environment Editor ELECTRIC car owners are forking out up to £41 per charge, a study has found.
Last year 108,205 electric cars were sold in the UK, almost three times the total in 2019. This number is likely to rise before a ban on the sale of new petrol and diesel cars by 2030.
But a study by What Car? magazine revealed that some motorists could pay as much as £40.66, including parking, to charge the battery from 10% to 80% using a public charge point.
That figure is almost six times the typical £7.25 cost of charging at home and almost as much as a tank of petrol.
Researchers analysed the cost of charging a BMW iX3 with an 80kWh battery. The cheapest public charger was BP Pulse’s 7.4kW pay-as-you-go system, which cost £9.32, or 18p per kWh.
Source London’s “flexi” 7.4kW chargers were the most expensive at £40.66. The system is available only in some London boroughs. The standard tariff is 7.3p a minute plus a £10 one-off charge.
This operator also had cheaper chargers costing as little as £19.40.
The firm said its fees could not be used as a like-for-like comparison as they included parking, often in central London.
Steve Huntingford, What Car? editor, said: “Our study highlights the importance of doing your research before you leave home to find the most costeffective way to make your journey.”