As I write this, my face and hands are covered in scabs. I’d love to say I sustained these injuries while trying to save the Oxfam shop on Ealing Green from looters. (It was looted, by the way.) But the truth is I fell off my bike on the way to lunch with another journalist.
At first, I thought he was the site foreman. He was in his mid-40s, well-built, standing in front of a building site on Madeley Road in Ealing. This leafy suburb in west London, which is about two miles from my house in Acton, was the scene of some of the worst rioting on Monday night
Sometimes, burglars really do mess with the Wrong Guy At 4.20 a.m. last Friday, my friend and neighbour was awoken by the sound of breaking glass. It was one of the panels in his front door and when the noise had died away he could make out the voices of two young men intent on
Qatar at Goodwood Goodwood works. No course in Britain looks prettier on a summer’s day. No course in Britain feeds the media better. Trainers agree that no one looks after 300-year-old turf better than Goodwood’s Clerk of the Course Seamus Buckley. And Goodwood always has an eye to tasteful innovation — the first course to
What’s the secret of successful parenting? Like most middle-class parents, I don’t just want my children to be happy. I want them to have proper careers as well. I’d like each of them to go to a Russell Group university — ideally Oxford or Cambridge — and then do a further degree. If they win
Wow. As I’m writing this, Wendi Deng is scanning the House of Commons committee room, searching for any additional assailants, as her husband and son-in-law are testifying before the Culture, Media and Sport select committee. Ten minutes earlier, she launched herself like a missile at a pie-throwing protestor, delivering a stinging blow to his face.
Some alien force keeps attacking my laptop. Every few seconds my anti-virus security system pings me with an audible warning of attempted forced entry, a process which paralyses all thought and makes working in a library impossible. It clearly isn’t a hacker from the News of the World, so who could it be? My wildest
I recently met a gentleman of Dorset who kindly showed me his car collection. It included an Austin Champ, the Jeep look-alike in service with the military 1954–66. Originally intended as an alternative to the Land Rover, it couldn’t hack it alongside Solihull’s finest — less adaptable, less reliable, more complex, twice as expensive. Yet
Many people have accused me of toadying up to the Murdoch gang in the past week or so, since I’m one of the few journalists willing to go on record to defend the Dirty Digger. Actually, it’s out of conviction rather than any hope of preferment. I really do believe that, on balance, Murdoch has
Toby Young suffers from Status Anxiety Forgive me if I don’t join in the orgy of sanctimony surrounding the News of the World. If any evidence is uncovered that proves a member of the paper’s staff hacked into Milly Dowler’s phone and deleted her voicemail messages, then, yes, he or she should be prosecuted to
Lambourn trainer Sylvester Kirk retains the distinctive tones of his native Donegal/Tyrone. There was just one moment during his eight years as assistant to Richard Hannon, a period which coincided with the Troubles in Northern Ireland, when he wondered if the accent was going to leave him alive. Deputed to drive the Hannons to Windsor
Someone has sent me an extraordinary newsletter from the outgoing secretary of the North Yorkshire NUT. It provides a unique insight into the leadership of the most militant of the teaching unions. As anyone with a child at school will know, the NUT has been instrumental in organising this week’s ‘day of action’ in the
I spent last weekend in Ibiza. That makes me sound like a plutocrat, but I discovered that if you’re prepared to arrive on the island at 1.15 a.m. on EasyJet it’s just about affordable. A friend who’s taken a villa invited my whole family to come and stay and that’s so rare these days I couldn’t
Never have I lost so much money in a week or more enjoyed the process of doing so, at least until Mrs Oakley sees the size of the cheque I will be writing my bookmaker. Such is the competitiveness of Royal Ascot, I shall explain, that the only certainty of the week is that the
When my son Ludo first suggested selling lemonade outside our house in Acton as a way of earning some extra pocket money, I was a bit dubious. Don’t you need a licence from the European Union before you can set up a stall in your driveway? And what about ’elf and safety? I could picture
Cliveden House, that great architectural confection above the Thames in Berkshire, is best known as the seat of the Astors and for the start of the Profumo scandal in the 1960s. The Astors were a political and financial dynasty who colonised Cliveden in the middle of the 19th century and by early in the 20th
Two weeks ago, the London Evening Standard outed me as one of four ‘celebrities’ who’d broken the super-injunction about Ryan Giggs. According to the newspaper: ‘Lawyers warned the stars could face a huge bill for damages after revealing the name of the Premier League footballer on microblogging site Twitter.’ My crime was to post the
As André Fabre walked off the Derby course following the success of Pour Moi, I watched one of the horse’s connections embrace him and declare, ‘I’ll tell you one thing. He’s a cocky little bastard, isn’t he?’ It wasn’t the horse the hugger had in mind: jockey Mickael Barzalona, despite winning by just a head
Toby Young suffers from Status Anxiety I’m writing this from the Hay Festival in Wales, which has become an annual pilgrimage for my family and me. The children can be parked in a masterclass on how to draw dragons while I slope off and listen to David Miliband being interviewed by Matthew d’Ancona. Not everyone’s
The Spectator’s supplements on Travel, since June 2011 The Spectator’s supplements on Travel, since June 2011 The Spectator Guide to Cruises — Autumn 2011 View online version | View print version 17th September 2011 The very idea of a cruise holiday sends shivers down some spines — and not necessarily shivers of excitement. There’s something