WHEN the coronavirus first hit Britain hard, everyone accused Boris Johnson and his government of being too slow to react.
Then, last weekend, when they suddenly announced that people coming home from a holiday in Spain would have to quarantine themselves for two weeks, everyone said they’d been too hasty.
They can’t win. And perhaps they don’t deserve to.
I’ve completely lost track of what I’m supposed to be doing these days.
It’s all bubbles and barbecues and keeping a metre away from people. Or is it two?
There are signs everywhere telling us to stay at home.
Meanwhile on the radio, Boris is telling us to go to work.
We are allowed to sit next to each other on a train or in a plane but not in a theatre or at a concert venue.
We have to wear a mask but not in a pub, and whatever happened to washing our hands?
That was cited as the most important thing you can do and now, no one talks about it any more.
They haven’t even got the new message about getting fit sorted out, saying that “two-for- one offers” on fatty foods must be abolished. While paying people a subsidy to go out . . . and eat chips.
Then there’s news that to stop children from getting enormous, junk food advertising will be banned from television until after 9pm. What good will that do?
No child watches television any more and if they do, they certainly don’t sit through the ads.
Then we have Boris saying that when he goes for a run in the morning, he knows that nothing else in the day will be as bad.
Really? So what if, when he gets to the office, he has to launch a nuclear strike on China?
Boris claims he’s lost at least a stone in recent weeks but I can guarantee that, soon, he will put it all back on again.
I’ve learned that if I eat a boiled egg for breakfast and a very small piece of fish for supper, and I don’t drink alcohol, and I walk five kilometres a day, I can just about maintain my current weight.
But if I have one curry, or one glass of wine or I only walk three kilometres because I’m busy or it’s raining, I’ll get on my talking scales the next morning and they’ll say: “No coach parties, please”.
I agree that weight and fitness is an issue. My doctor friend said that at the peak of the outbreak, he got fed up with rolling yet another 17st corpse into a bin bag.
But banning discounts on junk food and running adverts showing a construction worker eating a salad don’t help.
And that’s before we get to the laughable idea that the Government can stave off the dreaded second wave by mending our bicycles.
A simple message is all that’s needed. “You’ll probably catch coronavirus one day. And you’ve got a better chance of surviving if you lose a bit of weight”.
Yes. Actually doing that is bloody hard work. Some won’t bother and that’s fine. Some will, and that’s fine too.
Either way, give us the information and leave the decision up to us.
HARRY WINDSOR, the artist formerly known as Prince, has told travel bosses that when the pandemic is over, people will want a more “authentic” holiday experience.
Dead right, mate. I want a great bar on a beach, with no creepy-crawlies, no mosquitoes, blazing sunshine, lots of power boats to look at, jet skis to rent, brilliant food to eat and a fully air-conditioned hotel.
That’s what I call an “authentic” holiday.
I’m not sure it’s what he means, though.
He wants you all in a yurt, eating mud and then, when it’s all over, a sustainable bus ride home.
HUNDREDS of people in North Wales have signed a petition asking RAF pilots to go and practise their low-level flying somewhere else.
They say the noise is intolerable to which I say: Pah!
You should try living in North Oxfordshire, where every time the sun shines, hundreds of light aircraft enthusiasts get into their rickety old Cessnas and bumble about over the Cotswolds.
Yes, a jet is louder but the planes are fast, so the sound has gone away in two or three seconds.
Whereas a light aircraft can take two or three hours to drone over my house, and then just as it fades away, another one comes along.
What’s more, the RAF has to practise low-level flying whereas there’s no point at all to light aircraft. They go up, they make a noise and then they land back at the same airfield.
I have an app on my phone that tracks their movements and it’s always just a squiggly green line of noise pollution.
One of these days, I’m going to buy a surface-to-air missile. And then I’m going to use it.
PLANS are afoot to turn the inside lane of every motorway into an electrical highway for trucks.
The lorries will have steel aerial-type attachments that will latch on to overhead cables.
Everyone is very excited about the idea but it’s not exactly new.
The boys who operate the dodgems at funfairs have been using exactly the same system for years.
AS I’m a bit of a Charlize Theron fan, I obviously had to watch her Netflix film called The Old Guard.
And I’ve got to say, it’s one of the worst movies ever made.
I’m not sure who wrote the dialogue but I think that either English isn’t their first language or they are eight years old.
I WAS happy to see that Coleen Rooney has found time in her busy schedule to head off for a summer holiday in Barbados.
But I couldn’t help noting in the pictures that she was travelling with about 500 extremely large suitcases, above.
Why? It’s not like she’ll need an anorak or any scarves.
Perhaps she thinks they don’t have washing machines in Barbados.
Or maybe she thinks we’ll give a damn if she appears on the beach for two days running in the same bikini.
HEDGEHOG numbers are now so low in Britain that everyone’s favourite garden animal is on the verge of extinction.
Naturally, all sorts of ecomentalists have many ideas about what can be done but there is only one solution.
Contrary to what Brian May might say, there needs to be a massive cull of badgers.
Because the simple fact of the matter is that badgers eat hedgehogs and the badger population is now out of control.
Trap cameras have revealed that on my farm alone, more than a hundred come out at night to knock over walls and spread diseases.
The shots have also revealed that no hedgehogs live here. The two facts are connected.