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The diary of an English pizza chef in Naples

At 5 a.m. one morning in December, I found myself cycling as fast as I could to the bakery I worked at in Clapham, trying to get keep the blood pumping. My fingers felt like frozen gherkins, which made using the brakes difficult. Shivering and exhausted, I asked myself: what am I doing? At work, my hands thawed over a cup of tea, and I set about mixing dough, laminating croissants, and doing all the other things bakers do. After a year in the bakery, my mornings passed on autopilot. But that day, I couldn’t stop thinking about Naples. My girlfriend is from the city and we’ve been back to

Why prog beat punk

Keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman once described progressive rock as the ‘porn of the music industry; you bought an album under the counter in a brown paper bag’. He was no doubt referring to the genre’s mid-1970s nadir when punk burst onto the scene and nicked all the cool kids, leaving the nerds to their embarrassing flares and concept albums. Fast forward 50 years and it’s the nerds who prevail. Anyone out there still listening to Sham 69? These are the marginalised, workaday Brits you rarely get to see on television anymore Yes, the proggiest of the 1970s rock behemoths, is on tour again with an album of new material in the

My life as a football club chaplain

‘You’re what?’ ‘What do you do?’ ‘Why do they need one of those?’ These are some of the questions I was asked when I first became the chaplain of Scunthorpe United Football Club in 2002, a position I’ve held ever since. At that time, there were fewer than one hundred sports chaplains across the United Kingdom, mainly in football, but some in Rugby Union, Rugby League, cricket and, er, horse racing. Now there are nearly a thousand. Not all managements are happy with chaplaincy. Several Premier League clubs don’t have one So what does a chaplain do? I like to think that a chaplain loiters. I realise that in other spheres, loitering with intent may

Four bets for Royal Ascot

As a keen follower of most sports, I like it when the ‘good guys’ do well. By the ‘good guys’, I mean the elite sportsmen (and women) who are humble about their achievements and who you feel you could enjoy a couple of pints with at the bar of your local pub. In racing, I would be pretty sure that trainer Owen Burrows falls into this good-guy category. I have never met him but contacts of mine who know him well like him a great deal. He is knowledgeable, charming, straightforward and modest when interviewed on television too. More importantly from the point of view of a punter, Burrows is

Where to find history without the hectoring

I recently had an encounter with Oliver Cromwell’s hat which, these days, rests on a bespoke hat-rest in the Cromwell Museum in Huntingdon. It’s an astonishing piece of craftsmanship being far wider than any normal hat at nearly three feet across. The perfectly horizontal brim is constructed from thick black felt and the central head-holding part is a cylinder that rises sharp and perpendicular, like a chimney pot from a roof.  What is absent from small museums like this, mercifully, is the over-bearing hand of a committee of arts graduates What a sight he must have been, wearing this extraordinary hat, at the dissolution of the Rump Parliament in 1653,

How students cheat

Over the last decade, I have offered legal advice to thousands of students accused of cheating in their assessments. In university jargon, the term for cheating is ‘academic misconduct’. Although many assessments remain online after Covid, some have returned to the exam hall. There are still instances, therefore, of cheating à l’ancienne, with students writing notes on various limbs or smuggling in scraps of paper with minute writing.  I have had clients whose former partners have tipped off their ex’s university about historical episodes of cheating At times, the cheat is caught by an invigilator spotting a nervous glance towards an annotated palm. In other cases, the crib sheet falls

How to make your excuses

In the past I would have been interested in crafting plausible excuses for unforgivable social behaviour such as failing to turn up to events to which you had RSVP’d, missing a netjet or having said something genuinely appalling. One example: circa 1999, the late Rt Hon Alan Clark MP wrote to Dear Mary. He asked how, without losing face, he could apologise to someone he hugely admired, but to whom he had found himself being inexplicably rude at a party. For minor social crimes white lies are acceptable, if by being truthful you will rob another person of their self-confidence We all knew that Alan Clark was temperamental but his

The sad decline of writing

Sometimes, it’s not just bombs, viruses and elections that make you worry about the future of humanity. A recent survey, commissioned by the National Literacy Trust, reveals that fewer than one third of eight-to-18-year-olds enjoys writing as a hobby. If you’re thinking that I’m being wistful about fountain pens (‘whatever happened to ink blots?’) you’re flat wrong: this also includes writing with computers. A mere ten years ago, 50 per cent of children delighted in writing. You can’t help but feel that since then something’s gone terribly awry. If the young’uns are not writing for their own amusement, then they are missing out on a fundamental tenet of humanity. Recently,

Jonathan Ray

Inside Portugal’s new theme park for wine lovers

I’ve always loved Porto and need little excuse to visit. Not uncoincidentally, I’ve always loved port and need little excuse to drink it and so, invited to stay in this fine city and road-test its latest attraction, the ambitiously-monikered World of Wine, who was I to resist? There’s been a mixed reception to Wow locally. One person told me that it was garish and vulgar Porto is really two cities, Porto itself and Vila Nova de Gaia, separated by the mighty Douro River, along the banks of which lie the precipitous vineyards responsible for the finest of all fortified wines and some increasingly tasty red and white wines too. I