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But every convenience takes something with it, and lately I've been wondering whether one of the things we've quietly lost is: the stranger. Not strangers themselves; they're everywhere, filling airports and cafés and waiting rooms. What's disappearing is our need to talk to them.

This year a more dangerous strain of Ebola has appeared called Bundibugyo in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and is spreading fast and by no means under control. But just how dangerous is it?

I am Scottish. Born in Edinburgh, brought up in Glasgow. Both my parents were Scottish, also born in Edinburgh. I went to Aberdeen University and I have a Scottish accent. I proudly wear a kilt and can recite Tam O’Shanter, a magnificent epic poem by Robert Burns. I bristle when people say “England” when they mean “the UK”

Closed-circuit Television (CCTV) is everywhere. Why is this somehow considered acceptable when it is no longer appropriate for an individual taking a photo unless formal consent has been given?

Much of my knowledge of French history has come from spotting a street named after someone I had not heard of and looking them up in my history books or online. Yet to my shame, there is one great Frenchman who, until this week, I had not known about, even though he has 1,472 streets named after him, or rather after the nom de guerre he used in World War Two to shield his aristocratic family from the attention of the Nazis. I thought my lapse could be blamed on the fact that

"The time has come," the Stoker said, "To talk of many things: Of Democrats —and the GOP—and Naming Rights Of cabbages—and faux kings—And why the sea is boiling hot— And especially electoral swings." * And alas, but one cannot avoid painful subjects for ever, of Donald J Trump.

The rules-based international order (RIO) must be restored. Those who argued for Brexit on the grounds of “taking back control”, or who wish to leave international organisations like the European Court of Human Rights or the International Criminal Court because they believe it does not suit their national interest are flying in the face of history and common sense.

... the film to see is the five-hour-long La Bataille de Gaulle. This is actually two films with, irritatingly, two titles per film – L’âge de fer (The Iron Age) in France and De Gaulle: Résistance in the UK, and J’écris ton nom (I write my name) in France and De Gaulle: Liberté in the UK. Yes, both are about Charles de Gaulle during the Second World War.

For a long time, entry came with an unspoken price. Soften the accent. Shorten the name. Leave some part of yourself at the door. Something about that bargain appears to be changing. Arab and Muslim faces are gradually entering spaces that, a generation ago, seemed locked

I believe in chiromancy as much as I believe in necromancy, which, before you recoil in horror, means not at all. Or maybe I should say I didn’t believe in either. Perhaps now as I grow older, I’m changing my mind, based partly on strange new findings in physics, a tale which I shall leave for another day.