I have bought a farm. There are many sensible reasons for this. Land is a better investment than any bank can offer. The government doesn’t get any of my money when I die. And the price of the food that I grow can only go up. But there is another, much more important reason:
I can now have a quad bike.
I have always loved the idea of such things. They are like motorbikes but they don’t fall over when you leave them alone, they look great and they bring a bit of civilisation to Britain’s rather dreary green and brown bits.
Amazing, isn’t it. Mr Blair charges car tax, value added tax, car tax on the value added tax, tax on the petrol you put in the tank and tax from taxed income for permission to drive on the road. Then he has the gall to say that car prices are too high and that they must come down. And the car-makers, instead of telling the silly little man to get lost, said OK.
So, with prices falling and dealers laying palm fronds at the feet of anyone who walks through the showroom door, you might think it’s possible to go car shopping in a blindfold and still come home with a bargain.
Sorry, but it isn’t.
Because he’s eight, James May likes to invent games he can play when he’s not in the bath mending motorcycles or being made to practice the piano by his mother. One of these games is called ‘Airport Departure Lounge Dare’. It involves trailing through the shops, trying to make a friend or colleague buy stuff the poor gullible fool neither likes nor needs.
Apparently, Richard Hammond is a complete sucker and now has a house full of compass cuff links, digital cameras, currency converters, inflatable pillows, half a hundredweight of shortbread and God knows how many very expensive orange watches.