In the course of exhausting domestic road trips and foreign tours with his band, he somehow managed to write nine books, including The Best of Jazz, and composed about 200 tunes. To him, England was a vast aviary. With binoculars wherever he went, he spotted all sorts of birds — fieldfare, reed-bunting, pochana pin-tail, shelduck, whimbrel. The list goes on and on. At home, he baked bread, contrived Cornish pasties of his own recipes, presided over a garden pond and indoor aquariums of rare fish and attempted DIY interior decoration until a misdirected power drill caused havoc. Humphrey Lyttelton was a very nice man and this is a very nice book, friendly to everyone except George Melly. There are an introduction by Lyttelton’s son, Stephen, and many photographs.

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