The Iron Lady

Margaret Thatcher has just been named as the greatest Prime Minister of the last century. You won't be surprised that I agree.

James Whale invited me on to his Talk Radio show on Tuesday night, to discuss the great lady, and I broke my golden rule not to discuss politics on air. James could not have been more charming or professional, but when we moved on to Blair and Cameron, I realised that I won't be bothering to do this again, as I've lost both the interest and the desire to fight that I enjoyed so much when Lady T was PM.

It will be less than fair of me not to mention that Clement Attlee was named alongside her at No.1.

Back to Britain

Mary and I were off the QEII at 7.00am on Tuesday morning. It was raining. No customs and no passport check, which took us a little bit by surprise as this government is supposed to be doing so much to stop illegal immigrants and drugs entering our country. We took a taxi to the station. South West Trains were on strike, so we had to wait an hour for a Virgin train, which took us to Basingstoke, where we had to change for a train to Waterloo, then take a taxi back to the apartment.

It was still raining, the taxi driver grunted words of one syllable, and the fares seem to be more expensive than anywhere else in the world. I must be back in Britain.

We are sailing...

Mary and I have just spent a couple of weeks on the QEII - dear old thing, she's 40 years old next year, and Cunard will be celebrating by taking the lady around Britain - but don't bother to apply for tickets, as they're already sold out. The ocean liner still has an old-fashioned grandeur about it, and it's wonderful to visit major cities while being allowed to come back to the same cabin each night.

I gave three lectures while on board - one entitled 'How to write a bestseller', another on 'Can the Conservative Party win the next election' and the final one on prison, 'What's a middle-class boy like me doing in a place like this?' No prizes for guessing which one was the most packed with the audience standing in the aisles. Though to be fair, the questions after the prison lecture were very serious, and asked mainly about the terrible drug problem this country has. The audience seemed genuinely horrified that some 96% of prisoners smoke, and more than 70% are either on drugs, or have experienced drugs.

On a lighter note, on my last trip on the QEII they kindly presented me with the most dreadful 1970s shirt, covered in ocean liners. On this trip, a very generous American paid $2,000 at auction for it, and I've given the money to Mary for one of her Addenbrooke's hospital charities.

I still have the shirt. The very generous donor's wife, Barbara, refused to let her husband Conrad take possession of it - yes, it's that bad.

Lights, Camera, Action!

I received an interesting invitation recently to film an advertisement for a new magazine called In the Know, to be launched soon. The agency had invited three people to film three separate 30 second slots. I have never spent a day like it in my life.

I arrived on location at 8am, and didn't leave until 8pm that night. In the 12 hours on set, we shot seven different segments, none of which would be on screen for more than ten seconds - and we did each one at least 20 times; either because I'm not very good, or because they like to have much more material in the can than they actually need, just to be sure. In one of the scenes there were 70 extras, and as far as I could see, almost as many people behind the cameras. Rocky, the director, was outstanding - handling me with considerable diplomatic skill, his crew with a firm hand, and the extras with professionalism. I learnt what key grips, gaffers and tracks are, as well as what first cameramen, director's assistants and stand-ins do.

It was an experience I much enjoyed, but not something I'd like to be doing on a regular basis. Mary thinks the amount I was paid was obscene, so it's all going into the Archer Charitable Trust.