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It’s been three weeks since Boris unshackled most of the UK from a year and a half of Covid incarceration. We are now ‘free’, whatever that means, because it feels anything but.  What was I expecting­? Street parties, jubilant crowds running the streets, mask-burnings, a national celebration with Gary Barlow freedom anthem live from Hyde Park? I’m not sure. But certainly not this. I’ve emerged into a strange new world I must navigate with unremitting caution, one eye trained sniper-like on a microbial menace muscling in on my every move. I can go out and do things but must be ‘sensible’; I can meet friends, but even when we’re off the isolation hook, will spend days waiting for ‘the ping’; and while I’m no longer obliged to mask-up, only piggishly selfish and inconsiderate bottom-holes parade supermarket aisles shamelessly flaunting unguarded, disease-spewing cavities. (pic: Matt Seymour. C/o Unsplash) We’re trapped in a not-really-post-apocalyptic limbo. Everything we do comes with a
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In my mid-40s, with my journalism career gently coasting, I became a student again. The subject was unimportant. My brain was due a workout to match the body poundings that since my early 20s have been a daily routine. After years of tread-milling, weightlifting and squat-thrusting towards ever-elusive physical perfection, it struck me that decades of mental autopilot had rendered the muscle above my shoulders a saggy, 'don’t bother me till noon', spare-tyre of its former self. So, I started an Open University law degree. Being a middle-aged student is vastly different from how I remember it first time round. There’s no drinking, no drugs, no staggering home at 3am and sleepwalking into midday lectures. But more notably, and something that would have horrified teenage me, I enjoy it. No enticement is needed to get me into bed at a reasonable hour; I’m there at 10pm, hitting the books by 7am the following  day. This must have been what the high achievers­–weirdos who put finals
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Madonna gets New York Rebel Hearts rocking at Madison Square Garden

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THE lights flicker to the deafening roar of 20,000 New York Madonna fans packed into a hot and sweaty Madison Square Garden - the arrival of ‘The Queen’ is imminent. It is hard to believe amid the glitz, the hype, the unbridled hysteria and adoration of the crowd, that we are back where it all began more than 30 years ago. Madonna legend holds that the then unknown Italian-American wannabe rocked up to Times Square with just 36 dollars in her pocket and a dream of being a superstar. And as the frenzied excitement threatens to shake the very foundations of the building, I think it is safe to say she can tick that one off her list. Yes Madonna is back on the road for her 10th world tour - Rebel Heart - named after her 13th studio album released at the end of last year. This is the fourth show on a mammoth 70-gig extravaganza which will take in America, Europe, the UK, Asia and Australia. Rebel Heart kicked off in Montreal, Canada, last Wednesday amid much specu
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Banana artist gets Britain having fun with fruit

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Legend has it that many years ago a cartoonist, frustrated for ideas, spotted a tiny mouse scurrying around his boss Walt Disney’s desk. This careless and unplanned doodle led to the birth of the greatest animated character of all time - it's a wonderful story of how Mickey Mouse came into being. It was an unknown, aspiring novelist who claims that during a long train journey one day the idea of a young boy wizard called Harry popped into her head. She scribbled it down and …. do I really need to tell the rest? My point is that the weirdest, unexpected and off-the-cuff ideas often open the door to the most glittering treasure troves. You can spend years struggling to find inspiration before one day finding yourself twiddling your fingers, scratching your head - or drawing on a piece of fruit. You may wonder where this is all going - and before you give up thinking I am bananas - I urge you to stick with it. Not a very subtle pun I know but brings me t
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The Ice Bucket Challenge - water wastage and hypocrisy

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There is a craze sweeping the world at the moment, it is filling newspapers and ‘going viral’ on the internet. For anyone who has been living in a cave for the past two months I am talking about the ‘ice bucket challenge’ - the latest thing to be seen doing. A simple theory, it involves filling a bucket with water and tipping it over your head, preferably with a camera pointed in your direction. The ‘challenge’, I am led to believe, helps raise awareness of Motor Neurone Disease - the paralysing sensation of getting drenched in ice-cold water apparently gives an insight into what sufferers experience. I get the theory, however I am starting to grow tired of the endless watery Facebook updates and procession of publicity-hungry ‘celebrities’ who, lets face it, would tip a bucket of camel dung over their heads if it scored them a picture in a national newspaper. I can imagine the calls flying from publicists to clients - “I think it’s time you were seen doing the ice
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The answer to all your Italian cooking desires

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T HERE was a time when the mention of Italian food would make people think no further than spaghetti, pizza or tiramisu. But over the years the British palate has grown more adventurous as people have explored the wealth of cuisine from around the globe. Italian has always been a favourite, whether it is a simple plate of spaghetti vongole or a more exotic lobster risotto infused with the scent of truffle. Italy’s culture is deep-rooted in its love of food and there is an Aladdin’s cave of flavours and textures offered in its dishes - for those willing to take the plunge. The secret of great food is of course high-quality, authentic ingredients and when it comes to a taste of Italy, Peccando promises nothing but the real thing. Set up by housewife and keen cook ‘Beata’, www.Peccando.com is the go-to website for people who want to delve deeper into the adventure of Italian cooking. The name ‘Peccando’ means ‘sinning’ in Italian - an apt title as all its products are “worth sin
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