Peter Rhodes on string, baked-bean tins and how a TV doctor is saving lives in the heatwaves
Star columnist Peter Rhodes looks back at the death of health guru Dr Michael Moseley and other hot topics amid the recent heatwave
From beyond the grave, a year after he died, the health guru Dr Michael Mosley is delivering sound lifestyle advice on iPlayer. He was a great inspiration and a national treasure and his passing at 67, during a walk on the sun-scorched Greek island of Symi, was a terrible tragedy.
There was no definitive cause of death but heatstroke was probably a factor. I wonder how many men of a certain age who always regarded tropical weather as a challenge to their fitness, now treat it with more respect; I know I do. I would not be surprised if, in the long term, Michael Mosley saves more lives by his untimely death than through his broadcasting.
The Government's much-vaunted “one in, one out” solution to small-boat illegal migration can fairly be described in just two words: absolute cobblers.
Does anyone, including Macron and Starmer, seriously believe the French will send us la crème de la crème of the boat people and take in exchange the unskilled masses, dodgy chancers and convicted criminals that no-one wants? I promised some years ago that if the Tories ever got their Rwanda idea working, you could call me Ramsay MacDonald. Same applies to this turkey.
Incidentally, did you notice that private moment when Macron leaned close to speak with Starmer and covered his mouth with one hand? In France, as in Britain politicians must always be wary of what they call lecture labiale and we call lip reading.
Meanwhile the nationwide conversion of ancient copper phone lines to full-fibre digital storms ahead. Sort of. My switchover, you may recall, was done on July 1 and promptly went wrong. Since then I have repeated assurances that BT are on the job; the latest is a target date of July 30. BT have raised a complaint about their own work and have hinted at compensation. I hope I live long enough to see it.
In the meantime, I have a landline which transmits but does not receive, a mobile phone which, owing to a separate problem, receives but does not transmit and a replacement mobile which is so complicated that no-one in the house dares switch it on.
My first boyhood adventure in telephony, as with so many of my generation, involved two baked-bean tins connected by a length of string. Unlike my present set-up, it worked.
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