Stuart Reid has no desire to flash his “Brexit blue” passport. He wants to be physically and legally part of the most glorious civilisation the world has ever known.

This time next week, if the opinion polls and experts are to be trusted – and they seldom are – Boris Johnson will be prime minister. It is perhaps not quite what he was aiming for as a boy – then he wanted to become King of the World – but it is the prize

St Bede’s has become one of London’s great liturgical churches. The departing parish priest explains how it all began

St Bede’s has become one of London’s great liturgical churches. The departing parish priest explains how it all began St Bede’s Church, Clapham Park, is by no means an imposing building. It is set back from the road and you can quite easily walk past it without spotting it. If you were to see it,

Almost the first thing I did in Lourdes was to walk, head first, into the plate glass door of the gift shop in the lobby of our hotel. The door had been cleaned so thoroughly that it was invisible, at least to me. I bounced back with a little cry. Nice women assistants rallied around.

Life can be hell in the Holy Land, and is likely to get even more trying now that Donald Trump has recognised Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. As soon as the President made his intentions clear there was talk of another intifada. The Holy Father and Mrs May voiced their concerns, and the mayor’s

Last week, for the first time in my life, I wished I lived in Streatham, the south London suburb of bowling alleys, chicken takeaways, skating rinks and social insecurity. It has one jewel, however: Chuka Umunna, the sitting Labour MP. Mr Umunna does not follow his party leader; he is not, therefore a card-carrying, grievance-mongering

The first hurdle I had to clear while waiting for a routine heart procedure at a large south London hospital last month was a dementia test. No one had told me about this beforehand, so I just had to wing it. I sat on the edge of a trolley in my hospital pinny and answered

On the evening of Ash Wednesday, having prayed, fasted, and abstained from meat and, as far as was humanly possible, from uncharitable thoughts about Donald Trump and the Holy Father, I went to what must have been one of the most enjoyable Remainian parties ever given. As you will imagine, the company was delightful: charming,

The Northern Line Tube train going into central London from Balham was packed with jolly middle-class people, all of them well (though casually) dressed. It was the day after the inauguration of Donald Trump and they were on their way to Green Park to join tens of thousands the world over in a huge exercise

Stuart Reid joins 'jolly middle-class women' on the Trump demo

Go easy with that Christmas spirit. Don’t make a fool of yourself. Think. When a poor man comes in sight, don’t immediately reach into your pocket for change, but prepare to run as fast as you can in the opposite direction. “Man” in this context is not gender-specific, of course. The poor man who came