LET me introduce you to the conker. I am in England, in autumn, and as the leaves turn red and yellow and give in to gravity one becomes aware of conker trees. I only mention them because they add a new perspective to the serious and sombre image of the English. The conker is actually a horse chestnut. Why they call them horse chestnuts I can’t tell you. Certainly not because horses eat them. Nothing eats them. They taste disgusting even if you boil them for three years, pulverize them to a fine powder and add copious amounts of honey. Conkers grow on trees 20 metres tall, or more. They…

GREECE has the Acropolis; Italy has the Coliseum. France has Notre Dame and Britain has Stonehenge., But if you think these symbols of ancient lineage and evidence of experienced civilisation make Europeans one whit more sophisticated than a Longreach jackeroo I have only two words to say to you.  Public lavatories. As I write I am leaving London. On a train. It’s travelling quite fast, for which I’m grateful because I desperately want to go to the lavatory and I wasn’t game to use one in the great metropolis. The countryside might be better. If not, there’s always a tree. Then why not use a London tree? I hear you…

IF anyone else tells me they’re sorry, they’ll be sorry. What is with the Poms that makes them so keen to apologise? I’ve watched two of them negotiating a door and they turned it into a competition in humility. “Oh, I’m so sorry… after you.” “No, no. It’s I who should apologise, after you.” I’m surprised they don’t fight about it, except that if they did they’d have to apologise for that, too. It’s not as if they apologise about anything worthwhile. A door, for heaven’s sake! If you step on their feet they apologise, and if you jump their queue they apologise (“Oh I’m so sorry, was I in…

IT is 9pm where I am. The sun is still shining. Actually, not shining; more sort of glimmering. If it was a handshake it would be one of those that drip out of your fingers for want of character. I am in England where, at this time of year, twilights last longer than a flat beer, in contrast to our own Townsville dusks, that vanish like a slam-dunked basket ball. And talking of flat beer… where I am it’s also warm. Just another of the idiosyncrasies of this charming little island community. Like plastic bowls in the stainless steel kitchen sinks, socks worn with sandals, thongs called flip-flops and beaches…

NOW look! I do not expect to commandeer both the arms of my seat when I go to the movies. It is one of life’s great mysteries that in any row of movie seats only one person gets two armrests. That’s okay. I am prepared to share. I’ll have two through the adverts, the previews, and the credits at the end of the film. They can have it for the movie itself. (and if you think I’m getting a raw deal then you overlook the length of some film credits nowadays). But I will not give up the shared armrest entirely. No longer am I prepared to have some thoughtless…