Clubbing together

Lesson one of the Nuffield Scholarship. If you stay in a hotel full of farmers, don’t expect a lie-in.

I’m staying in Gob of the Wash’s London residence, the Farmers Club. Lucky old me is now a fully-fledged member of said establishment, thanks to being a Nuffield Scholar.

That’s right, Club lady who once asked me to wait outside on the street rather than in the lounge when I turned up early for a meeting (was it the purple shoes that upset her?), I’m a member.

I’d never been in the residential area of the club before and d’you know what, it’s rather nice. Apparently one of my heroes, Oscar Wilde, used to live in the apartment next to my room. I wonder if his mum stitched his name onto all of his belongings in the way the club has…

Pillow

Anyway, it’s so far so good on the scholarship. I passed the first test yesterday by not laughing hysterically every time someone attempted to do an Australian accent when talking about fellow scholars from overseas (Matthew, I’m never ridiculing yours ever again).

Food marketing guru Professor David Hughes popped by in the afternoon to offer his views on the future of the food industry. He reckoned health and environmental policies are going to be linked up by government in such a way that it forces people to change their diets – reducing meat and dairy consumption in favour of greenery.

He even dared to say old Macca and his meat-free Monday idea wasn’t such a bonkers idea. Maybe everyone was standing on ceremony seeing as it was only the first day, as none of the livestock farmers chased him from the room. Either that, or they’d all had a pint by that point and were too fuzzy to realise what he’d said….

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