I’m coming out of the closet regarding choice of films

Despite the media efforts to get me interested, I didn’t really care who was the father of Bridget Jones’ baby.

You know who I mean, the character dreamt up by Helen Fielding who featured in a best-selling chic-lit novel which was turned into a global film blockbuster smash hit. And then another. And now a third.

SWMBO simply loved the first two BJ films. So when the publicity bandwagon for BJ3 started rolling out, I knew it was only a matter of time before I faced pressure to organise a trip to our local cinema.

I held out for just over a week, hoping it would have proved unpopular and been pulled from the schedule. No such luck.

We went this week to see it. And it was good. Not in a Gladiator or Spectre way but good nonetheless.

I never want to see Mama Mia either. But it was fantastic. Nor did I wish to while away a couple of hours watching John Travolta in drag – but Hairspray was magnificent.

And then there was Les Mis. I thought I’d rather pull my finger nails out with a rusty pair of pliers than watch what I thought was a depressing story. But I was wrong again.

I have proved to myself that, even in one’s autumn years, it is always worth trying something as you never know, you might actually like it.

Update on last blog: A Tesco money card for the awful wine arrived within days and has been used already. For another, but different, red wine box.

However, I am still waiting to get my replacement pressure washer hose. Despite having provided the necessary information about the purchase to Lidl on two separate occasions (they clearly don’t actually read customer emails) and to the maker (Lidl obviously don’t pass on pertinent information onto suppliers).

Where has good customer service disappeared to?

I’m going to surprise you now – I write in praise of Tesco.

We use it more often for our regular shop than other superstores simply because we know where everything is, we know what quality we will get and the café does a tremendous value-for-money breakfast.

But all that aside, the real reason I mention the supermarket in dispatches is because of its customer service.

As my reader will know, I’m the first to moan about poor service, so I now endow praise where praise is due.

We enjoy the occasional tipple and have bought 3-litre wine boxes since the mid-1980s, when we first came across them in Dubai. And very handy there were then for our weekend wadi trips.

More recently we have particularly enjoyed a particular Tesco-own brand of Spanish red. Two weeks ago we noticed that the packaging had changed but purchased the rouge nectar anyway.

Bad mistake. The "new” wine was awful – insipid, weak and quite stale. So last Monday I emailed Tesco customer service, a polite, but firm, missive, stating our view of the product.

I had a response later that day and by Wednesday had received an apology and was told a refund, in the form of a card, was winging its way to us. So, sorted in three days.

I wish I could say the same about Lidl. We bought a power washer from the local store back in May and the hose gave up the ghost last weekend, having developed a leak. German technology letting you down after just four months I hear you say.

I managed to find the literature that came with the purchase and was pleased to see the washer had a three-year guarantee.

I emailed the Lidl address given on the guarantee card. I did get a reply within a couple of days but only asking if I’d give them permission to pass my details on to the supplier. Data protection, it seems. Of course I said yes. Since then nothing.

I don’t mind the lack of further news but it annoys me that the business is passing the buck to the supplier. I bought the item from Lidl and expect them to sort it.

While on the subject of customer service, another example of the good and the bad from the charity shop sector. SWMBO has sorted out her father’s clothes. He died in May 2015 but it has been too emotional and difficult until this week to undertake the task.

We ended up with six plastic bags of clothes and shoes, nearly all in very good condition. Enough goods, we felt, to make a tidy sum for a charity.

The first local charity shop we rang weren’t interested, telling SWMBO they had loads of stock at present “as lots of people have died recently”.

The second shop said they would be delighted to accept the items.

They have probably got loads of stock as well, if so many people have died recently, but staff there clearly have great customer service training.

I fear the world is going slightly bonkers

I’ve always had a few doubts about the French but banning Muslim women from wearing Burkinis on the beach? Mon Dieu.

Every reasonable and rational person despises terrorism but to say a woman who is covered head to foot while she goes for a swim makes them feel uneasy or insecure is utter nonsense and, as my French friends would hopefully say, connerie.

Private Eye, as usual, hit the nail on the head.

Some French Riviera mayors imposed the ban but they were overruled by France's top administrative court. Sensibly, in my opinion, Nice and several other resorts lifted their controversial bans in line with this national court ruling.

Critics see the cover-all garment as a symbol of Islam and potentially provocative, with local French authorities saying that they were concerned about the public order implications of the religious clothing, especially after the attacks in Nice and Paris carried out by people influenced by Islamist extremism.

While opinion polls suggested most French people backed the Burkini bans, they ignited fierce debate in France, and deepest Suffolk, with Muslims saying they were being unfairly targeted.

Is it just a little ironic that the country which invented the bikini now wants to make it illegal to cover up on the beach? What would happen if a nun appeared for a swim or a scuba diver appeared out of the water? Off to the nick I guess.

And maybe overweight male sun-seekers in tiny budgie-smugglers should be banned first?

Coronation Street bosses were forced to issue an apology last week after nearly 300 viewers complained about the Bank Holiday Monday episode of the show which they said contained a racist comment.

The episode saw Eva Price, played by Catherine Tyldesley, visit Audrey's hair salon, where she remarked:

"I have more roots than Kunta Kinte.”

She added: "No idea who that is, by the way, just something my mum used to say."

Those of us of a certain age know that Kunta Kinte was a character from the novel Roots: The Saga Of An American Family, which was adapted into a hit TV mini-series.

Call me an old fashioned politically incorrect bigot but isn’t that bit of script writing funny rather than racist? Just asking.