Off Beat

One of my journalist friends confirmed that if she saw a police officer coming towards her late at night, she’d run for her life, same with another who said that if a police car slowed down near her, she’d bolt. It was the same story with the others. Only one maintained that most London officers were probably bone fide and she’d give them the benefit of the doubt while clutching her pepper spray at the ready. It’s not a surprising reaction given how two notorious officers, Wayne Couzens and David Carrick, the former a murderer, and the latter a serial rapist and abuser, were able to act with impunity until finally caught. Meanwhile, WhatsApp groups were discovered in which officers laughingly and disrespectfully passed round images of murdered women in London parks. Frankly, it defies belief.

What a sad indictment on the force which back in 1999 was crucified by the Macpherson report, following the horrific killing of Stephen Lawrence. Were lessons never learnt? Is it true that the force today is even more racist, misogynistic, and homophobic? Even the Telegraph newspaper’s famed cartoonist, Matt, took a swipe at the Met with his timely sketch showing officers with new police dogs, complaining that they needed to be trained as weren’t currently sexist, racist, or homophobic.

The conclusion of Louise Casey’s report was that the force had completely lost its way and that the public no longer had confidence or trust in its officers. She recommended a complete overhaul. Of course, one of the main problems is that solving crime doesn’t appear to be top of the list for the police anywhere anymore in the UK. Forces appear to be immersed in ticking politically correct boxes and dealing with red tape while they eat sugared buns in the office – this accounts for why statistically many are hugely overweight. Old style policing methods where coppers actually got off their backsides and went on the beat have been consigned to fiction with the likes of TV shows such as Dixon of Dock Green.

Recruitment that lacks a proper vetting process seems to be a major failing along with weak leadership, poor disciplinary procedures, and a dodgy rise to the top perhaps when it comes to internal promotion. The British police, particularly the Met, need to be reminded why they exist and who they’re supposed to serve. If they don’t have a grasp of that basic principle and their purpose in society, why do they exist at all?

Johnnie’s back

I have a corpulent toad in my pond named Johnnie who spends a great deal of time philosophising with me in between fly catching and sunning himself on the lily pads. I consider him a friend, along with the rest of my furry, feathered and amphibian menagerie. I’ve written a great deal about Johnnie in my travel books and although some of my neighbours and friends have never seen him as he’s very shy, I assure them that he is there, usually secreted in a crevice of a wall rock. My lovely cleaners are often exasperated by my tolerance of harmless Viperine and garriga snakes, tortoises, hedgehogs, frogs, lizards, geckos et al but the other morning, they did make me howl with laughter. They had apparently opened all the French windows as they swept the kitchen floor but were stopped in their tracks when they saw an enormous sapo, toad, eyeballing them from the tiles. Convinced that it must be a rubber toy, they still felt the need to prod it gently with a pen but screeched in horror when it leapt in the air and in a few jumps, plunged into the pond beyond. Both ran for their lives in a state of apparent terror. When I’d finished wiping my eyes, I explained to them that it was only Johnnie the toad and that he was a star in my books and should be treated with respect. I think you might imagine their response. I’m thrilled that there’s still life left in my mischievous little amphibian chum and will regale him with their account later today just to make him chuckle.

Running for the hills

With another charity marathon beckoning this year, I have no choice but to get off my lazy carcass and get running. During the winter months I did a half-hearted couple of runs a week but now the training is in earnest, or I simply won’t make the grade. It’s hard sometimes balancing a screaming desk of deadlines with caring for my menagerie (which includes the Scotsman!) and keeping to a fitness regime. All the same, getting up an hour earlier is often the best way to make training happen.

In London, I had to be in my office early before my team arrived so runs were carried out early evening and at weekends, but I don’t have that excuse here. My clients and writing schedule do being early but I at least have some flexibility during the week as I work from home and of course there are days when early online meetings beckon, and I simply have to put off my run until later in the day.
I am also fortunate to attend wonderful Pilates classes locally twice per week, run by Monica, a first rate teacher with a wicked smile and sense of humour. I love seeing her and my classmates and it’s a welcome bit of respite at the end of a long working day. Exercise can seem like a chore but when you get going, it’s of course a real joy and either running, cycling or walking in nature surely has to be the best? My aim at the moment is to complete 10,000 steps before 10am and if I fail, then I have to make it up later in the day, even if that means shuffling out for an early evening walk once work is done. Discipline, hard work and routine can be wonderful things, despite seeming unappealing on first reflection. I thank them all because without them, I’d be lying in bed with a bar of nut chocolate, watching Netflix all day!