I know who I would rather have been over the last weekend. I travelled back from mid-Devon yesterday where I had been for the weekend at a country wedding. I was staying in a farmhouse that was, in terms of political or newsworthy significance, nowhere. It did have, though, a room with a view difficult to beat. Luckily, nowhere wasn’t so far away from a small Devonshire village either where the local pub served the perfect cream tea with lashings of Devon cream accompanied by equally creamy voice of Tammy Wynnette on an unselfconcsiously loud sound system. Perfect if, like me, you can’t get enough of either.

The party was fun too. It was held in a barn where a large gathering of people from all over Britain assembled to have a very good time fed with sensational English country cooking, topped up with an access of alcohol and all the country dancing you could possibly wish for in a lifetime. There was a lot of laughter too.

Not much laughter, I suspect, at the White House though. Poor Barrack Obama – he could have done with a bit of Devonshire tender loving care….so too could the American people,  I fear,  as this economic stuff gets more and more serious. A word of advice, Barrack, put some Tammy on your iPod. you’ve got a tough time ahead of you, mate.

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