Fran Lebowitz rather dashed my hopes in Liverpool, the last place the PM would be welcome
The hop by plane from Dublin to Liverpool is so swift that one barely has a moment to peruse the duty-free catalogue, but last week it was long enough to fear that the entire political landscape might have altered by the time one hit passport control. But Wednesday was a good evening, I discovered, to be arriving in a city that, if it has no time for the Tory party, has even less for Boris Johnson.
I was there to interview the writer and raconteur Fran Lebowitz on stage at the Liverpool Philharmonic. Did the quintessential New Yorker have any advice for persuading a politician keen to hold on to office that the writing was very much on the gold-wallpapered wall? She issued a firm caveat that UK politics was not her forte, but counselled caution in believing it was all over too precipitately.
