Watching England play football is an extraordinarily masochistic exercise. It is like waiting to be punched - the question is not whether or not you will be punched, the only question is when. As Harry and I roam over the site, he banters with his crew in Dutch, swapping manly hugs, jokes and the occasional kiss.
The week ended in the King's Road with James Harvey, who has been a great source of creative ideas over the last few years. He is constantly planning and plotting how to improve and develop his business; it is great to admire his verve and consider how many dealers' businesses would benefit from his level of energy.
Back behind the wheel, with my trusty giant Twix nestling in my glove compartment, ready to grant me the benison of its exquisite chocolate, caramel and biscuit melange when a sugar crisis raises its head. Even now, as I guzzle the chocolate stick I cannot resist pretending I am smoking a cigar, something I have never done in real life!
I began the week with jewellery and the doctor and finished in Paris. A year ago I was called by my local surgery to have a health review. I did not go; I did not want to go. So, the doctor rang me and said that if I did not make an appointment and attend I would be struck off their list of patients.