White to play and win. This is a position from Caruana-Kramnik, Leuven 2016. Answers to me at The Spectator by Tuesday 3 January or via email to victoria@spectator.co.uk. There is a prize of £20 for the first correct answer out of a hat. Please include a postal address and allow six weeks for prize delivery. Last week’s solution 1 … Qxf5
I’m sitting by the pool in a lush Moroccan garden playing chess with Nigel Short, and I feel like an amateur boxer who’s stepped into the ring with Mike Tyson. This is the man who took on World Chess Champion Gary Kasparov. He could destroy me in an instant. Actually, there’s no need. In a few moves I’ve destroyed myself. After this chess weekend at Ezzahra, a chic retreat in Marrakech, I’d hoped to show Britain’s greatest grandmaster how much I’ve learnt. Instead, I end up playing like a complete idiot. Thankfully Nigel is a perfect gent, accepting my abject resignation with good grace, and my humiliation is soon forgotten
My year was topped and tailed with trips to Rome. In March, as the blossom unfurled along the Tiber and the city’s churches prepared for Easter, I met four girlfriends from university, one of whom was working as a chef for the Rome Sustainable Food Project based at the American Academy. Then, in late November, I went back by myself and stayed at the Villa Spalletti Trivelli. It’s hard to say which was more pleasurable; Rome is Rome in every season. In spring, we all crammed ourselves into a bedsit in an old pasta factory in the fashionable Trastevere district. During the day we pretended to be a bunch of
And so it begins again. This time last year, I decided to see how long I could last without alcohol. Not just a dry January for me. Oh no. I saw myself lasting right the way through till the following December. According to a doctor friend, your liver only really regenerates after 12 months. Less than that and the health benefits of not drinking are negligible. You know how this story ends, although, to be fair, I lasted until 8 February. I’d been booked to give an after-dinner talk to a group of head-teachers at one of England’s most prestigious private schools and I assumed that the wine would be so
Q. Our first Christmas card arrived on 2 December and it was a lovely thing — a Burne-Jones angel musician, finely printed, paper inner lining and sent first-class in a franked envelope with an immaculate printed label.Unfortunately, the signature was just a large and meaningless felt-tip flourish; no address, no other clue except ‘Season’s Greetings’, which may hint at someone with an international list. While we still maintain our fading Christmas card habit, we would not want to give unwitting offence by not reciprocating. What do you advise, Mary? — P.W., address withheld A. Your letter has only just reached my hands. My advice will be too late to employ
Here are the first 50 words in the order that they were learnt by a child called Will: 1 uh-oh; 2 alldone; 3 light; 4 down; 5 shoes; 6 baby; 7 don’t-throw; 8 moo; 9 bite; 10 three; 11 hi; 12 cheese; 13 up; 14 quack-quack; 15 oink-oink; 16 coat; 17 beep-beep; 18 keys; 19 cycle; 20 mama; 21 daddy; 22 siren sound; 23 grrr; 24 more; 25 off; 26 tick-tock; 27 ball; 28 go; 29 bump; 30 pop-pop [fire]; 31 out; 32 hee-haw; 33 eat; 34 neigh-neigh; 35 meow; 36 sit; 37 woof-woof; 38 bah-bah; 39 hoo-hoo [owl]; 40 bee; 41 tree; 42 mimi [ferry]; 43 sss [snake]; 44 ooh-ooh [monkey]; 45 yack-yack [people talking]; 46 hohoho [Santa]; 47
It is said that the case for freedom of expression needs to be restated in every generation, but things move faster in the digital era. Just three years after an attempt at state regulation of the press ended in ignominious failure, a fresh effort is being made. The government has begun a consultation on a plan to impose stiff financial penalties on newspapers who refuse to sign up to a state-approved regulator. Anyone wishing to give their opinion on such a regime has until 10 January. It is odd, for a start, that Theresa May’s government feels the need to consult on whether it has a duty to uphold fundamental
Home The Queen was said by the BBC’s Laura Kuenssberg to have asked, at a private lunch before June’s referendum, about the European Union: ‘I don’t see why we can’t just get out. What’s the problem?’ Mervyn King, who was Governor of the Bank of England until 2013, said that Britain needed to be more ‘self-confident’ about its chances outside of the economically ‘pretty unsuccessful’ EU. Theresa May, the Prime Minister, issued a Christmas message: ‘As we leave the European Union we must seize an historic opportunity to forge a bold new role for ourselves in the world.’ George Michael, the singer, died aged 53. Rick Parfitt, who sang and
Every year, from mid-November to mid-January, dozens of DVDs drop through my letterbox. These are most of the movie releases of the past year. It is with great anticipation that I tear open the yellow padded envelopes from Sony or Disney or The Weinstein Company, and even from companies I’ve never heard of; but invariably it’s with disappointment that I scan the hundreds of titles unknown to me, and I do read Screen Daily and the Hollywood Reporter. I’m amazed that the production companies manage to finance some of these films. I know from whence I speak. However, snuggled up on the sofa in the days before Christmas I dutifully
Clockwise round the grid from 11 run three trios (8,4,6,5,9,3,5,8,4), each trio combining to suggest the same word. A trio of unclued lights combine to give a relevant activity (hyphened) and the remaining unclued light gives a relevant name verifiable in Brewer. Across 9 Hat to be pleased with resembling a boater (10) 13 Sculptor and angler on good terms (5) 14 Brutes rector needles and opposes manfully (7) 15 Brilliant discoveries including European object (round) (7) 17 Brother painting timeless exotic shrubs (10) 19 Experiment involving El Salvador for example (5) 22 Rotter beginning to irk judge (4) 26 Courts have the Queen meeting fifth of judges (5)
In a quiet backstreet in Geneva, a few blocks from the lakeside, there is a museum which will change the way you think about that watch upon your wrist. When I first came here, a few years ago, I must admit I wasn’t expecting much: a glorified salesroom, exit through the gift shop… I couldn’t have been more wrong. This isn’t a suave exercise in soft sell — it’s a first-class museum, with one of the finest collections of watches in the world. Like all the best museums, the Patek Philippe Museum is a labour of love, not a clever sales gimmick. Most of these watches aren’t made by Patek
All too often in life there’s a gap between expectation and reality. Not with driving on ice. The expectation is tantalising, but the reality is demanding, exhilarating, and so much fun you’re surprised it’s legal. I’ve been doing it for 13 years, taking groups of around 15 on an annual trip to Sweden. Every single time it’s an absolute joy to witness the hilarity, thrills and sense of satisfaction that our guests enjoy in just three days. We start each visit with a little bit of theory for the technically minded — though nothing really prepares you for driving on a frozen lake. The fundamental skill to master is how
Unclued lights are names of PARLIAMENTS. First prize Judith Bevis, Newport Runners-up Hilda Ball, Belfast; Michael Grocott, Loughborough
The new issue of the Spectator is out today, and hopefully those who buy their copy shops will have more luck than they did with our Christmas special issue. That seemed to sell out rather quickly, which isn’t a good sign. It’s our job to spot when sell outs are likely to happen, to restock the shelves and make sure everyone who wants a copy can do so. For whatever reason, that didn’t seem to happen as it should have done this time around. I’d like to apologise to Christopher James, who sent this distressed Tweet when he couldn’t get a copy in in Euston station, one of the places in London. There were
Unwanted Christmas gifts have always been part and — excuse the pun — parcel of the festive season, whether it’s an unfeasible number of French hens, or an over-pungent celebrity-endorsed Myrrh bath oil. We all have our favourite stories of mis-judged pressies: from the husband who bought his wife a gravy separator for Christmas (we are still married), to Auntie Mabel’s attempts to buy fashion items for a 14-year-old. Nationwide, the value of these duff gifts is now estimated to be some £2.6 billion, according to a recent survey by Triodos Bank. Among the most unpopular gifts are Christmas jumpers, onesies, celebrity autobiographies, novelty socks and kitchenware. That’s what charity
We’re closing 2016 by republishing our ten most-read articles of the year. Here’s No. 3: Matthew Parris’s article from July, where he says the fallout from the referendum has left him feeling ashamed to be British for the first time. Before even writing this I know what response it will meet. Some who fought for Leave on 23 June will be contemptuous. ‘Bad loser’, ‘diddums’, ‘suck it up’, ‘go and live somewhere else’. From the online Leave brigade who stalk the readers’ comments section beneath media columns I’m already familiar with the attitudes of the angry brigade; but aware that there were also plenty of perfectly sane and nice people
Merry Christmas everyone. Here are some things I learned — or relearned — in 2016. 1. That which does not kill you makes you still alive. It’s weird to think that less than 12 months ago I was in hospital, dosed up with morphine, battered and bruised with a broken clavicle, numerous cracked ribs and a pulmonary embolism which can actually kill you, don’t you know. And now it’s as if the whole thing never happened. Well, apart from the hideous titanium plate, like a giant centipede, which I can still feel all stiff across my collar bone. And the bastard hunting ban my family has imposed on me… 2.
On the London Underground last week the carriage was crowded. No seat. No problem. I’m only 67 and content to stand. But a younger man offered his seat, and, having some way to travel and a book to read, I accepted with the appropriate grunt and nod of gratitude. Later, approaching my station, I noticed he was still there. Should I thank him properly before alighting? But he was in another part of the carriage. It might look silly to elbow my way over. Let it pass. Then a voice in my head spoke, a voice that over the decades has become so familiar. Don’t misunderstand me: this was not
This being the time of year for it, you’re probably thinking what form your New Year New You will take. You know — the reinvention that we’re all encouraged to go in for from 1 January. Well, I have a corker. It’s huge. It is nothing less than the programme created by Donald Trump’s spiritual mentor, and look where that got him. Before reading this formula for success, I did wonder how it was that Mr Trump got as far as the presidency; now the only wonder is that it took him this long. The self-help book I have in mind is written by Mr Trump’s favourite pastor, Norman Vincent
