Express & Star

Peter Rhodes on rejecting a coin, cruising with a comedian and cherishing our infrastructure of the soul

Read today's column from Peter Rhodes

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Commemorating nothing

Tony Blair's old spin-doctor and arch-Remainer Alastair Campbell says he will not use the new commemorative Brexit 50p, nor accept it in change. What an exercise in sheer silliness.

I'm sure we can all picture the scene in his local corner shop. Campbell: “Shopkeeper, how dare you offer me one of these vile 50p coins in my change? Are you not aware that I have eschewed them?” Shopkeeper. “Eschew 'em all you like, pal. There's your change. Take it or leave it.”

In any case, why get irritated by a coin that says nothing? The so-called Brexit 50p carries merely the date – January 31, 2020 – and the worthy little motto: “Peace, prosperity and friendship with all nations.” There is no mention of Brexit. This must be the only commemorative coin not to commemorate anything.

In the endless HS2 debate, Boris Johnson declares he is generally in favour of more infrastructure. Which is fine, so long as he includes infrastructure of the soul. Or as we sometimes call it, the British countryside.

Incidentally, the latest national bird count in the British countryside reveals that little birds such as robins, goldcrests and long-tailed tits, are thriving thanks to the mild winter. Has anyone asked the robins how they feel about global warming?

Cruising is not what it used to be. According to a survey of passengers by Which?, one popular cruise line is becoming like “Butlins on sea.” However, some passengers admitted a fondness for the onboard entertainment, including “comedy acts straight from the Seventies.” I was transported back to my one and only cruise where some bright spark had booked a working-class Liverpool comedian to entertain a largely middle-class Home Counties audience. The culture-gap was vast. As the funny man got into his stride it became obvious that most of the passengers hadn't a clue what a joke was or how a punchline worked.

“Tell me, sir,” the comedian asked one elderly man “what did you do before you retired?” The old chap replied: “I was a laboratory botanist.” Quick as a flash the performer pointed to the audience and responded: “I'd better be careful, sir. They might think you're a plant.” I swear I was the only person laughing. Later over a drink, the comedian told me the great thing about cruise-liner audiences was that he could use the same gags night after night, and no-one noticed.

For me, the highlight of the cruise was the food (wildebeest steak with a suitable South African wine, sir?) and the vast range of activities. I decided to spoil myself with a screening of the 1941 Orson Welles classic, Citizen Kane. According to the bumf it was considered by some critics to be the greatest film ever made. Seriously? Give me the Scouse joker any time.