Hector noted recently that the bods behind the Squash Masters tournament had toned down their rather desperate advertising which one year gave us the embarrassing legend: "What do you get when you cross a tiny British island in the middle of the Atlantic with 32 of the best squash players in the world? Civilisation run amok." This year's "Adrenaline in a box" seemed much more fitting but it seemed the adrenaline got too much for the marketers who then ran amok again by claiming the tournament was attracting 625 million television viewers. Hector is unable to enlighten you on quite how this rather specific figure was plucked out of the air. But he does doubt that one tenth of the world's population watched. Hector demands a recount.

He won't be entrusting brother for the task though, judging by his recent spell in Belarus, where, almost alone among independent observers, he declared that re-election of President perfectly in order while everyone else cried foul.

Regular Hector readers will know his column isn't complete without mention of and apparently the admiration is mutual with the former PLP Senator unable recently to finish a column or letter without mention of Hector.

First he claimed his recent swipes at at the BIU conference were a joke. Even more improbably he went on this week to claim, in a column aptly titled "random thoughts" that outgoing BIU head claims that the print media were keeping racism alive were also meant in humour. Vitriolic rant was how Hector's spies have more accurately described it. But Hector will take Cal's broader point on board and try not to take anything Cal says seriously ? even though his jokes are no laughing matter.

Government hopes a new flat rate of Airport duty, which came into force at the start of this month, will help slash those mind-numbing post-flight waits at the baggage hall.

Judging by what Hector witnessed on a BA flight to Bermuda last week, passengers are already in training for any fast dashes through the terminal. Many were out of the starting blocks and up on their feet moments after the service from Gatwick touched down on the runway. The jet was still in the process of screeching to a halt on the runway when would-be sprinters were already leaping out of their seats, falling across the aisles like drunken tightrope walkers as they grabbed hand luggage from overhead compartments.

Sadly, the mad dash to the terminal came to a standstill at Customs, where back-of-the-queue Hector faced a wait of at least an hour before finally being able to flag down a cab home. He thinks any visitor in a similar situation would have all the pop and sizzle plumb drained out of them by the time they reached their hotel.