Patrick West

It is now fashionable to describe Nigel Farage as an 'extremist', 'far right' or 'fascist' politician. Last month, Dame Margaret Beckett denounced his 'brand of extreme right-wing politics'; this week, Armando Iannucci tweeted: 'Any vote for Farage on Thursday won’t be seen by him as a protest but as support for his brand of far-right UK politics.' And on Monday, the author and journalist Ben Goldacre described the Brexit Party leader as a 'far right ideologue who wants to abolish the NHS.' So what prompts otherwise intelligent people like Iannucci and Goldacre to describe Farage as 'far right'? And is that description really fair? A quick glance at Farage's politics suggests it isn't. Farage has spoken out against interventionist wars abroad.

If you’ve ever travelled on London’s Piccadilly Line, you may have noticed that on the stretch between Green Park and South Kensington, the north-facing tunnel twice changes to a peculiar dark grey rather than the familiar charcoal black. I always used to look out for these grey bricks when I took the Tube back home to Hammersmith. This is because I was obsessed with disused, or ‘ghost’ stations, and on this stretch were two of the most distinguished: Down Street and Brompton Road, both of which were closed in the 1930s. Down Street is of particular interest, having served in the following decade as a bunker for Winston Churchill during the war. As a station, it had hardly been used after opening in 1907.

When people come to Dover, it’s usually to pass through. The magnificent castle on the cliffs may be a tourist attraction in its own right, but for the most part, Dover has been a place people go through on their way to or back from the Continent. It’s never been much of a seaside destination. The rise of cheap flights, the end of duty-free and the advent of the Channel Tunnel diminished its status as a port, and the 2008 crash hit it hard. The number of vagrants, street drinkers and empty shop premises in the centre bear witness to a town that has seen better times. Yet things are looking up. Back in May, to the surprise of Doverians and the world’s media, a new Banksy mural was unveiled on the side of an old amusement arcade in York Street.

When people come to Dover, it’s usually to pass through. The magnificent castle on the cliffs may be a tourist attraction in its own right, but for the most part, Dover has been a place people go through on their way to or back from the Continent. It’s never been much of a seaside destination. The rise of cheap flights, the end of duty-free and the advent of the Channel Tunnel diminished its status as a port, and the 2008 crash hit it hard. The number of vagrants, street drinkers and empty shop premises in the centre bear witness to a town that has seen better times. Yet things are looking up. Back in May, to the surprise of Doverians and the world’s media, a new Banksy mural was unveiled on the side of an old amusement arcade in York Street.

To judge by the number of Labour placards outside people's houses at the moment, you'd be forgiven for thinking the party is heading for a romping victory. Sure, you will see some 'Vote Conservative' placards dotted about here and there. But for the most part, putting up political posters is now predominately a left-wing pastime. This is certainly the case in the urban heartlands of England's three big cities, London, Birmingham and Manchester, where the rare Conservative posters that have made an appearance are often defaced or torn down. Perhaps surprisingly, 'Vote Labour' posters are most conspicuous in the wealthier parts of our cities.