Imagine, if you will, England in the 16th century after the Reformation; a small country on the edge of a largely Catholic continent. No, no, no, I promise this isn’t going to be about Brexit.
On a recent visit to Trumper’s to have my hair cut I bought a bottle of Portugal Eau de Toilette. I suggested to the salesman that I expected mule dung with top notes of drains and stale urine.
I have lived fairly contentedly in London for forty-three years and much of my happiness I now realise has come from avoiding the Hanger Lane Gyratory system.
Mo Farquharson is a sculptor of considerable ability who sadly died last year aged only sixty-four. The Miners commemorates seventy-three colliers who died in the Udston Colliery explosion in 1887.
Luis Buñuel ‘s 1929 film, Un Chien Andalou, has a scene in which an eyeball is slit with a razor. Arabesque, a 1966 comedy-caper starring Gregory Peck and Sophia Loren has a scene early on in which a scientist is killed by having toxic eye drops administered by a baddie posing as an optician.