The reason for this celebrity?  The King’s Speech.  Despite the spin put on Lionel Logue’s speech therapy for George VI in the movie, The King’s Speech, it turns out that perhaps his speech impediment was not as ‘cured’ as we are led to believe.  Back in 1941 my father, then a lowly sound engineer at the BBC, was called on to edit out the fluffs and stutters in the King’s Christmas Day broadcast to the nation.  Winston Churchill heard the live broadcast but passed a message down the line to get it ‘doctored’ before being broadcast to the Empire.  Morale in Britian was low at the time and Mr Churchill was determined the King should sound a confident leader.  My dad, then aged 19, was the person to whom the task of editing out all the pauses and stimbles fell.  This little story, first published on our excellent local website, chiswickW4.com, caught the attention and imagination of the BBC, hence my few heady moments of fame.

I loved being on national TV and must just note that Charlie Stayt and Susanna Reid, the BBC Breakfast presenters last Saturday, are absolutely lovely. I had huge fun and only wish I had another story to tell.

If you’ve been to Seville, read no further.  But if somehow, like me, you’ve missed it up until now, read on then book your flight.

The city is physically astounding - stunningly beautiful whichever way you turn.  Despite being Spain’s fourth city, it has an intimate feel and is warm and welcoming.  My visit was in March when the trees in the streets were laden with orange blossom - the fragrance was almost overwhelming.  Everywhere there is music - students wandering round in groups performing impromptu flamenco on guitars; less well-heeled men playing joyous piano-accordian outside shops, bars and restaurants; and everywhere there’s talking, talking, talking.

Even in March (and before Semana Santa) the streets of the two main old city areas, Santa Cruz and La Macarena, are thronged with good natured revellers day and night. The city has a wonderful vibe and it’s one that you don’t really want to leave in order to go back to your hotel for the night.  The food is wonderful and wine scarcely less so.  Waiters are professional and friendly and greeted my stumbling Spanish with pleasure, rather than the sneer you might encounter in a tourist-stuffed town in the south of France, for example.

There’s so much to see and do that I won’t even attempt any highlights here - just get a good guide book (the Dorling Kindersley one is excellent) and GO!

Popped into the National Gallery of Scotland which is probably the most delightful, small gallery I’ve ever been in to and was surprised and delighted to find Canova’s Three Graces there - surely one of the most beauiful sculptures of all time?  Dotted around the wall were great examples of Rubens, Rembrandt and Raphael, to name but a few.  What a treat!  Out to Leith to take in the breataking view over the Forth from the Ocean Terminal - more eye candy.

A warm hand of applause for Scottish bus drivers who go out of their way to be helpful and informative.  If one driver hadn’t told us that, on match days, the buses are diverted away from Murrayfield, we would certainly have missed our flight home and probably be there still.

One final, and very important thing, it’s clear that the Scots are an intensely nationalistic race.  Apart from the fact that in every shop, gallery, bus and bar we visited we were served and greeted exclusively by Scots, as the hour for the match drew near it became apparent that national pride insists that all Scotsmen should wear the kilt.  It was intensely heartening to see so many thousands of men of all ages proudly swinging their kilts as they walked around the city.  From 10 year-olds playing the pipes outside the ground, through teenagers, young men and grandfathers, the city was askirl.  Makes you think…..

But today I was very happy to visit, for only the second time, a family business which, from the customer’s point of view, has most certainly got it right. I hesitate to tell you its name in case it becomes so popular that I can’t get a table next time I want a first class meal in central London - but it’s the season of goodwill so I shall. Pattersons. Mill Street. London W.1. This family affair produces fabulous food accompanied by great service at sensible west end prices. What’s not to like? Today’s main course of smoked haddock on a bed of bubble and squeak with a properly poached egg coated with a delicately herbed hollandaise sauce was simply sublime.

Now, if all families could harness their talents to work together imagine what we could achieve .

Happy Christmas

En route to the party I had planned to drop in on the posh auction house in Stourbridge, Fieldings.  Twice a year they hold a sale of Clarice Cliff works and, as I have a couple of vases, I wanted them  evaluated for the forthcoming sale  at the end of October.  Will of Fieldings (whom you might have seen on the Antiques Roadshow) enthused about one of them and we ended up spending a very jolly half hour talking about Clarice Cliff, the Eames brothers, and bent plywood chairs.  A pleasant encounter ended with a serendiptitious twist when it emerged that Will lives in the same road as the relatives whose party we were going to.   Weird.