Dispatches from Poppy Spalding

THURSDAY, MUMBAI: This week finds me 'slumming' it in Mumbai, India. After watching the totally amazing foreign film Slumdog Millionaire last week, I simply had to get over here and join in all the slum-based fun.

By Karen Fenessey

I THINK this recession thing is really going to people's heads. I've been keenly following Paxman's wonderful series on the Victorians, and I can reliably inform you that they didn't have nervous breakdowns just because it was taking longer than expected to sell their flats.

TO all those people who might be asking, what the bloody hell does she know about rugby, I'd like to say this: I bloody loves rugby, and secondly, see, I bloody loves my Gavin, so if you want to make something of it you can meet me, Angharad and the rest of the valley girls round the back of the Prince of Wales for a bloody good scrap, isn't it.

THE Premier League is the hardest in the world. Don't believe what you hear from the frog lickers, the pasta suckers and whatever the hell Spanish people are eating these days. English teams run harder, in more directions and with fewer reasons than any other nation of footballers.

By Karen Fenessey

I DON'T understand people who complain about the snow. When it's perilous outside, I voraciously leap upon the opportunity to stay indoors and challenge my mind. It's precisely the attitude which spawned the likes of Russia's Dostoevsky and Scotland's John 'Logie' Baird. However, for some, heavy snowfall leads to voracious leaping of a far less noble nature and I'm ashamed to admit that one of these people is related to me.

Dispatches from Poppy Spalding

MONDAY: TOKYO

This week, I'm in Tokyo: home of sushi, tiny things and my all-time favourite movie: Bill Murray's Lost in Translation. This movie has never been more relevant, not just to me but to the entire world, most of whom don't understand Japanese. My experiences here have taught me we have so much to learn from Bill, and also from Buddha.

By Karen Fenessey

I MUST admit I am becoming steadily more bamboozled by British society. Whatever happened to the veneration in which we once held our monarchy? In days of yore, people had a much better sense of humour and any decent citizen would have let a tiny spot of racist horseplay slide. And if they were to take offence at the monarchy, they would be severely punished - just look at bonfire night. And Ireland.