Hamish Champ: Recession? What recession? (Part 307)

I know there is a recession going on. I read the papers, after all.

And I know that while not the largest country in the world the UK is quite big and there's a lot of the place that I've yet to encounter.

But if one were to take at face value the anecdotal evidence I've encountered in my neck of the woods one'd be hard-pressed to come up with the view that the nation is buggered economically.

Sure, more and more people are losing their jobs, and probably twice their number is like as not in imminent danger of doing the same.

And yes, never mind the state of the pub sector, those in the know argue the eating-out market - the panacea of all panaceas, apparently - is starting to creak as consumers actually go out to eat less, preferring to snaffle up the specially price 'all-in-one' take home meal deals being touted by the likes of Marks & Spencers, et al.

But in light of this, and given all the other economic shenanigans going on, you'd think that pitching up at a Thai restaurant 'on spec' and expecting to get a table would be a doddle, wouldn't you?

Actually no, not round my South East London manor it isn't. Or rather 'wasn't'. Every one of the aforementioned types of eatery I tried to get into on Saturday night was heaving, with groups of people waiting for tables to become free.

So we adjourned to a nearby pub. And would you believe it? Yes, it was barely half full.

Now some will blame the economy for such a situation, others the smoking ban. A few will even point the finger at the changing social and cultural trends this country is currently experiencing, whereby for many punters the pub just doesn't offer the sort of leisure and hospitality experience they are looking for anymore.

But on this particular evening the biggest concern of my friends was quite simply that we got a decent spot, and since we nabbed a table no problem we ended up having a great time.

Sad though it is to admit, it seems for some the bigger picture means little…

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As a motorcyclist I have often bandied words with cyclists. I know such people have a torrid time of it trying to get to or from work in one piece, but let's be honest, they can often make the commuting experience of other road users a bleedin' nightmare.

So I am pleased to be able to report this heart-warming incident, which while as rare as a English rugby team being able to get through a Six Nations game giving away fewer than half a dozen penalties gave me cause to pause a paper I am writing entitled 'All Cyclists Are Bastards'.

On my way home on the ol' Triumph the other evening I was stuck in traffic, unable to weave my way between buses, taxis and white vans, whereupon an attractive young woman pulled up beside me on her bicycle, similarly unable to make any progress.

I could see out the corner of my eye she was looking at my bike - it's big and red and shiny, you see - and after a moment or two she said: "You've got a nice set of wheels there."

Then she smiled and was off, squeezing her way between a gap in the traffic before I'd had a chance to compliment her on her own set of tyres, although this was probably just as well, given that one can be locked up for this sort of thing nowadays…