PETER RHODES: Vote in or out, we still stay in the EU either way

ONE of our favourite cafes down here in Devon has had a facelift and looks much better – apart, that is, from the lavatories. They have turned the separate men's and women's loos into a single unisex toilet which means you are separated by a single sheet of plywood from someone of the opposite sex in the next cubicle. It is, to use an old word, unseemly. I know unisexes are common in overcrowded, overpriced London, but is genteel seaside England ready for them?

AS scientists continue the quest for the baffling combination of genes, enzymes, mind and lifestyle responsible for obesity, I couldn't help noticing how this national epidemic seems to have struck so many people in the queue at the village chippy. A mystery, innit?

YOU read it here first. In this column on April 1, I wrote: "I wonder how long it will be before somebody in Whitehall or Brussels tells us that, under some tiny and well-hidden sub-section of EU law, the result of our voting will be advisory rather than mandatory." From The Spectator this month, in a column by David Cameron's father-in-law, Viscount Astor: "If the Brexiteers win, an exit from the EU is not deliverable. The EU referendum is merely advisory."

SO let me say it once again. If we vote In, we stay in the EU. If we vote Out, we stay in the EU. Simple as that.

MEANWHILE, wouldn't it be rum if the referendum result were so close that it was decided by the votes of a few hundred who left it to the last minute before ensuring they were on the electoral role? In my humble opinion, anyone who thinks 11.55pm is a good time to start registering to beat a midnight deadline, should not be trusted with a tin opener, let alone a vote.

MY tale about finding a till receipt, complete with credit card number, amid litter dumped in a farm lane reminds a reader of a similar incident. Finding a receipt among some abandoned trash, he contacted his local council. Although they were happy to send two men out to clear up the litter, they were not in the least interested in using the receipt to track down the litterers. Apparently, that would be 'a breach of data protection'. Too much like hard work, more like.

HUMAN nature being what it is, I wonder how many BBC viewers have photographed the amazing wildlife footage on screen from Springwatch with a view to entering it in the annual calendar photo competition in Countryfile.

AND have you ever seen, or heard, anything on telly quite as harrowing as the stoat killing the woodpecker chick on Springwatch? We humans may love nature but if you're less than six inches long, it's pure hell.

A FEW days ago I used the definition of knowing what a woman really wants: "It's like trying to figure out what colour the letter seven smells like." A reader with synaesthesia, the condition which jumbles up the senses of taste, smell, colour and so on, responds: "All synaesthesics know that the letter seven is pale blue and smells of elderflowers." Quite right. And all Wednesdays are yellow.