I'm in Leeds at the moment - home of Jeremy Paxman according to the Tourist brochure I found in my room (though how welcoming visitors may find this fact I'm not quite sure).
I'm staying at the Queen's Hotel in the centre of Leeds. It's like the grand old lady of the hotel industry. The lift says call "Car" rather than elevator or indeed lift and the old ballroom (home of our Annual Review conference today) looks like it's the kind of place the local parliamentary hustings take place every four years or so.
I was led astray by another bad woman last night. Jayne and I went to dinner at Jamie's (Mr Oliver, the waiter assured me, had only put in one appearance in the restaurant all year this year). She made me eat a bit of her crab brochette. I accepted partly on grounds of taste but mainly nostalgia for the poor thing had come all the way from Devon to be on the end of my fork last night.
Anyway, crabs or no crabs I'd better get on with the day....
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