TuesdayI was never tempted to invest my money in Iceland, despite all those advertisements on the moving television featuring that jolly young lady and all her party food. You see, hereabout memories of the Cod War are still raw.
In 1975 Icelandic trawlers appeared on Rutland Water and began to harvest our fish with the intention of taking them back to Reykjavik to be salted, dried or whatever Johnny Icelander does with les fruits de mer.
Well, we simply weren't having it. The Rutland Navy put to sea with your diarist, as a Rear Admiral, to the fore, and the impertinent trawlers were driven back whence they came. Not surprisingly, feeling ran high locally: I recall a High Leicestershire Radical front page of the time with the headline "STICK IT UP YOUR GEYSER".
Incidentally, in my experience this "offshore banking" is never a good idea. There is a filthy old hermit who lives on one of the tiny islands in Rutland Water and he is always offering to look after people's savings for them. I did row out to him once, but decided against investing with him. My money remains in the Bank of Rutland and the Rutland Rock Building Society.
If you like This Sort Of Thing, read:
Monday: Nick Clegg goes to Sainsbury's
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