Peter Rhodes on climate warnings, an odd cheese and deciphering a phone tome
Here we go again. I complain about the price of a TV licence and, as night follows day, readers leap in to point out that the daily equivalent is an absolute bargain.
Listen, I fully accept that £159 is 44p per day. But £159 is also £159. Impasse.
And off into the very heart of the Heart of England, for lunch in one of those evocative black and white Shakespeare-land pubs in a farming village on a perfect English summer’s day. How strange that while the pub menu offers piri-piri chicken, Halloumi, Greek salad and mozzarella bruschetta, there’s no ploughman’s lunch.
Funny stuff, Halloumi. How do they get the squeaks in it?
Continuing my personal odyssey from analogue to digital, I have invested in a cordless home-phone system. The online manual runs to an impenetrable 63 pages.
