The rumours are a damned lie, Sir!

Not long ago a friend asked me why I keep referring to “my partner”. “Some people might think you’re gay,” he said.

To be honest, I don’t give a hoot what people think, and at my age you have to take your pleasures where you can. However, after three marriages and a few other relationships, all with women, it’s a bit late for me to switch. I wouldn’t know where to start.

Anyhow, I call her my partner because calling her my girlfriend at my age sounds stupid; “mistress” is old-fashioned and, I think, impolite; so I'm left partner – though to be honest I hate the expression. It reeks of political correctness.

On the subject of taking pleasures where one may, the picture at the top is not there to arouse speculation; it was taken rather late on a Saturday night with – or rather in the beneevolent clutches of - the genial host of the Bridge End pub in Crickhowell, Wales.

The day after we got back from Cuba we went off on a trip with two friends to the Abergavenny Food Festival. This, to be honest, has a great atmosphere but as a place to try food is no more interesting than Borough Market by London Bridge.

Nearby Crickhowell, on the other hand, where we stayed in a b & b, has great character and at least three excellent hostelries. I don’t think there’s anywhere as good in Chelsea where we live. The Pig’s Ear is good, but absurdly expensive and I don’t know anywhere else that good.

We ended up in the Bridge End at eleven at night. The ladies I was with wanted coffee, but the landlord said they were closed. On the other hand, he said we could have a beer if we wanted – which we did. Followed by a bottle of wine, which he bought. What a lovely boy!

When I have a moment I’ll tell you a little bit more about what we saw in Cuba, where we actually went to do a seminar for some Motor Dealers from Russia, Ukraine and Belarus. Did I mention that?