Peter Rhodes: Truffle hunting in Umbria

OOPS, finger trouble. I referred recently to the 1998 Blackadder Christmas Special. It was actually 1988. Which makes us all feel a bit older.

THERE is nothing like predictive text for making a mockery of your most earnest words. A hand-wringing Guardian reader laments about: "Our liberal society regressing back to medical times ." Er, medieval, maybe?

IN last June's EU referendum 33,577,342 Brits cast their vote. They did it the old-fashioned way, trekking to their local polling stations, because that's how strongly they felt about the issue. Contrast that with the Keep Trump Out online petition. Signing it requires zero effort; you just click a computer key. And yet the petition has garnered (at the time of writing) barely two million votes. While its supporters may hail this as a great success, it is at best a minority, or even a fringe point of view. In this digital age, we should not be fooled by causes attracting just a few million online votes. If the Trump petition attracted 10 million or 20 million votes it might be regarded as significant. But two million? Peanuts.

I WROTE recently about the vast contribution to the UK Treasury by the super-rich. Latest news is that between them David and Victoria Beckham paid the taxman nearly £22,000 a day in 2015. Maths is not my strong point but I make that about enough to employ 250 nurses every year.

THE rather abrasive correspondent who accused one of my readers of "never having really accepted Sikhs, whose community has graced the city since the Windrush docked on July 22, 1948" really ought to visit his local gurdwara where they will not only put him right but possibly offer him a free curry. Sikhs come from the Punjab. The migrant ship Empire Windrush came from Jamaica.

THE future of gin is safe, we are told, thanks to the UK National Tree Seed Project which has collected enough seeds to ensure the disease-threatened species will survive for ever. I am transported back to 1992 and what was probably my best freebie (sorry, research trip) ever. We were whisked off to Italy by Gordon's Gin to cover the harvesting of juniper berries to flavour the gin for the coming year. But the juniper was not the only attraction. On the second day we hacks were offered the choice of a coach trip to Assisi or a trek through the forests to hunt for truffles. Most opted for Assisi but two of us took the view that you could see the glories of Assisi on any package trip, but how often do you get the chance of a truffle hunt? It was an unforgettable and blissful day, slogging through a sun-dappled Umbrian forest in the company of two amiable fungi-hunting hounds. The French unearth truffles with pigs but the Italians use dogs. The day was great, the night a bit of a blur, suffused with the whiff of juniper. Best job in the world.

I ASKED whatever happened to that staple of British industry, the office girl. A reader writes: "Some of us turned into wives." Apparently they are still answering the boss's phone and taking orders at all hours. The difference is that they don't get paid.