Like just about everyone else in Britain, I have a view on the recent referendum. I voted Remain, but if I have any complaints about the outcome, it is that the efforts of so many politicians and others who campaigned for an ‘In’ vote were scandalously unimaginative, half-hearted and ineffective. If a myriad of Britain’s finest minds – allegedly – all proved incapable of countering the truly abysmal arguments put forward by the likes of Johnson, Gove and Farage, then I’m inclined to think that the civilised political process is pretty much doomed in this country for the foreseeable future.
This is something I would love to explore and write about in far greater depth, but I’m afraid I cannot. I spent yesterday evening in a beautiful old barn on the edge of Dartmoor, as I’d been invited to some wedding festivities, so this meant that I finally got to see the famous Higher Eggbeer Farm for myself and to meet and converse with Alistair Scott-Lawson, the visionary owner and caretaker of this wonderful establishment.
I thoroughly enjoyed myself, but whereas I’d have formerly thrown myself into the festivities with a vengeance, a quiet voice told me I’d be very well advised to confine myself to a comfortable seat by a blazing log fire at the far end of the barn for the duration of my visit. I did so and I also had a very pleasant and rewarding conversation with a few other guests, when the subject of my 2009 book The Missing Years of Jesus came up.
With each passing day, I’m recovering more and more from the terrible maladies that laid me low at the beginning of March, so I’m grateful for this and I’m grateful to everyone who’s helped this process and who’s sent me their best wishes, but the blunt fact remains that it will be a long, long while before I’m back to my once vigorous self.