John Elkington

With another train strike under way, we had to rent an car (turned out to be an Audi A4) to drive across to the Culham Centre for fusion energy, near Oxford. Bumped into Sir Martin Smith – not literally – as he got out of his red Tesla in the Culham car park. Among many other things, he is founder of the Smith School of Enterprise & Environment at Oxford University. (I followed up later – and Louise and then talked to Professor Cameron Hepburn, then Director of the School.)

Fascinating briefing on nuclear fusion, followed by a tour, all organised by the Science Museum, where we have been patrons for some years. I wrote about fusion in my 1986 book Sun Traps, but things have changed enormously since then. For one thing, the private sector is now much more actively involved.

Next we drove across to Hill House to see Gray and Caroline – and were delighted to see how he has rewilded the gardens on either side of the house. Not sure our father, Tim, would have approved, but very much aligned with the zeitgeist.

Across to South Cambridgeshire by train to St Neots, Cambridgeshire, with much of the team to visit a regenerative enterprise, Papley Grove Farm. Run by Martin Lines of the Nature-friendly Farming Network. Informative learning journey, with more of the detail on Martin’s work accessible via the link

Across to UCH this morning for an MRI scan, following a recent check-up at Moorfields Eye Hospital which had showed evidence of a recent stroke in one of my eyes. Here the doctor took me through the scans when they were done and processed.

He literally ‘flew’ me through may brain, which was beyond fascinating. When the journey seemed to have stopped I said, ‘Well that looks fine.’ No, he replied. ‘You”ve got a hole in your brain.’ And there it was. A lacune, filled with cerebrospinal fluid. Apparently formed when a stroke cuts off blood supply to part of the brain.

Ah, I thought, that explains all the things that go missing in my head.

Spotted the pillar box cosy on my way home and it nicely caught my mood somewhere between reflection, exuberance and landing on a new moon. When I had said to the doctor that I was reassured that there was so much redundancy hardwired into the human brain, he asked me what job I was in. Told him the truth, but didn’t say I try to get into other people’s brains and rewire them.

Miserable weather for a Coronation, but Elaine and I went across to Richmond this morning: partly to have our ears looked into, partly to escape a local street party featuring karaoke (which was then postponed anyway); partly to get away from the constant hammering as our roof is stripped and renewed; partly to visit bookshops (with Elaine buying Michael Frayn’s new book in The Open Book store just as he walked into the shop); and partly to have lunch by the river at Tapas Brindisa.

As we walked out of the restaurant and down to the Thames, a bearskinned band struck up for the first time – and the second tune they played was Monty Python’s Always Look on the Bright Side of Life. Said thank you to the bandsmen as they walked off sodden to their next gig – and would like to say thank you to Eric Idle for writing such a quintessentially English song.