30April1997

30 April 1997
My dear folks,

It’s a strong contender for most perfect day of the year, a real beauty. I saw it beginning to dawn early, as I completed the 2nd of two not-too-trying night shifts on the 7th floor of TV Centre. Welcome it was too after unsettling Tuesday winds that thrashed around the patio, slamming the door & whipping the climbers every which way. It’s the final day of the election campaign & the serenity of the afternoon contrasts with the turmoil in political tummies as party leaders deliver their final impassioned appeals to the electorate.

Whatever their appeals, the election which will surely deliver the country its first Labour PM in nearly two decades. The result is so widely anticipated as to be discounted by my colleagues, especially as – they point out -- it’s essentially a choice between two conservative parties. Not here the uncertainties of a Mandela replacing a PW; the age of ideological conflict between the main players in Britain is past. It’s merely a question of whom you most trust to drive the car down the middle of road. Be that as it may, I shall be trotting down to the polling booth in the morning to cast my vote (Irish citizens enjoy the franchise in Britain) & sitting up tomorrow night to watch the TV coverage of the outcome. There are several candidates whose defeat will bring me particular satisfaction. Both the Beeb & ITV are planning all-night shows. BBC World is doing its own thing which I’m relieved not to be part of.

Last week’s Portuguese trip is just a memory. I’ve long since acclimatised to Quinta commutes. What did strike me though was how easily I slipped back into old habits – not exactly a boozy lifestyle down there, but certainly an enjoyment of life’s good things. The scale complained on my return but I have since readopted the regime I’d embraced here, lost the unwelcome gains & reset my sights on 80kgs.

I spent several hours last Sunday preparing, slightly mystified, for the BBC board I was expecting on Monday……mystified because there were no details awaiting me of where & when it was to take place. I eventually got hold of a managerial type who explained that the dept had a new boss & all the boards had been cancelled until such time as the boss had sized things up. I was not pleased. The words “useless” & “wankers” came to mind. But having since worked on reports showing children dying horribly of starvation & disease in Zaire, I’m trying to keep things in perspective.

Beyond this I’ve little to report other than several hours of kip today & the usual round of bank, bread & fruit shop visits. A man wearing a mauve blazer in the bank was ranting at the clerks because they didn’t have the fivers he required each week, when would they learn? I longed for them to tell him to take his custom elsewhere and wished them all loudly a very good day. Mave has been sunning his snow white tummy on the landing. The only complications in his life are getting in & out of the flat & getting fed proper goo when he wants it. Thank you Jones for your fax – I’ll call later - & Cathy for your call.

Blessings ever
T