At the weekend, I visited a mate in a fairly remote part of the world. Shite was talked, beer was drunk, and dogs were compared. All well and good.

But what bothers me is this: I live in the biggest city in the country, and allegedly one of the finer cities of the world. He lives on a small island with approximately one percentage point of the population. I live in a road with thousands of people, he lives on a country lane with a few dozen houses along the length of it.

And which of us has a closer pub? Not me, because of some crusading food 100 years ago who covenanted the entire area against the evils of the demon drink. Bugger that he is.