The Mail on Sunday

My stint at the Mail on Sunday has almost come to an end, so I thought I'd share some conclusions.

• The subjects that the Mail on Sunday writes about are quite limited. In fact very limited. In fact, they only write about one thing. Which is the British upper class. The third earl of Bognor, Baron von Slough and Lord Blackburnshire seem to be of real interest to Middle Englanders.
• Leading on from this, the Mail is not as fascist as first thought. At least the Mail on Sunday isn't. It is quite apparent from reading it that the Daily Mail is every bit as fascist as first thought, if not more so. The Mail on Sunday just doesn't have enough space to be fascist because they are too busy concentrating on the links between Fergie and Richard III's dog's nephew's hat-making business. Which isn't fascist, it's just mildly ridulous.
• When I discovered that the Guardian has produced their free 'how to write journalism' book this morning, the features writers showed an undue interest in reading it and getting tips. One even commented that they should change the whole way that they write features based on it. Which is quite embarrassing really as it is supposed to be a book for lay people with an interest in journalism, as oppposed to features writers with several years of experience.
• There is quite simply nothing to do. Not for me, not for anyone. The percentage of time that I have spent on Facebook is high, which is understandable. The percentage of time that full time features writers spend on Facebook is more surprising. On average, they write less than one story a week each. Maybe I could go for a career as a management consultant and streamline the organisation to cut out the unnecessary staff, whilst still of course keeping a place for vital junior reporters. A role which I could conveniently fill.
• Either Gordon Brown is a schizophrenic or the newspapers seem to change their minds on a fairly regular basis. On Tuesday he was the greatest Prime Minister since sliced Tony Blair and by Wednesday he was incompetent becuase Ruth Kelly's kids took precedence over her cabinet role. Maybe we were seeing different sides of him (insert unpolitically correct joke about him not being able to see both sides), but the reality is probably somewhere in the middle.

Privelege and opportunity

Two days into my newly fledged journalistic career and already a whinge is twitching in my blogging fingers. Now that I am a professional whinger (as journalists should be renamed) I feel that it is only correct that I should express myself on this forum.

Britain's society is allegedly meritocratic. Yet famous names, members of 'journalistic dynasties' abound. I'm 100% sure that these great journalists are writing pithy articles that their fathers and grandfathers would have been proud of. However I am not one of the elite and am striving to reach the pinacle of my newly fledged career.

Therefore, less than two days into this career, I feel that I may need to change my name to fulfil my ambitions. Whilst Cooper conjures images of Scottish barrel makers and Fieberjiack, my grandfather's surname (even spelt correctly) would simply give the impression of Polish builders (however much of a valuable commodity Polish builders may be, particularly in this current economic climate), it is time for a name (and possibly style) change. Perhaps Rafi Bell would sound good, draped in white jacket. Alternatively Rafi McDonald, although a change of skin colour might be prohibitive.

Having also rejected Rafi Politkovskaysa, for fear of the Russian authorities, I have come to the conclusion that Raphael Simpson might be a preferable new identity, in honour of British war journalist as opposed to the rotund American cartoon character, despite the argument that the latter might be more relevant. I'll let you know how it goes down amongst the Dimblebys.

The Himalayas. Done.

7 people started my Himalayan trip. 3 finished. I was one of them. However the lack of mental and physical preparation of one of my fellow trekkers can be gauged by her first question at the initial group meeting before climbing to Everest Base Camp - "Is this trek going to be strenuous?" (the clue is in the word 'Everest', I believe)

Whilst Everest became an impossibility because of three frustrating and ultimately unsuccessful days waiting to fly to Lukla, it was decided that we would do another trek. It was not until the first day that it was mentioned that Langtang was considerably harder than Everest. It was also on this first day that we trekked 31 km (around 20 miles), having been told that we would have a gentle start. Trekking the Himalayas in the pitch black is an experience never to be forgotten. Or repeated.

To go through each day, each view and each photo would only invoke boredom (I'll do just that with everyone who cares to listen as soon as I get home), but I feel that some highlights and lowlights deserve a mention. Unfortunately Nepali computers are not quick enough to upload photos, but there will be some uploaded in the near future.

1) Reaching the glaciers and glacial lakes from which the snow covered peaks could be seen all around. Simply stunning.

2) Getting bitten 16 times by leaches. In one day. On my birthday. I've heard of birthday bumps / beats, but that is ridiculous. My pyromaniacal tendencies, never before discovered, were brought to light (a pun, geddit!) when burning the creatures alive. The photo of the leach morgue will certainly entertain, when uploaded.

3) The tortoise beating the hare. The one person in my group whose mission it was to go as fast as they possibly could, ultimately got altitude sickness and had to be carried down the mountain. Which gave me an enormous sense of smug self-satisfaction, despite the fact that this is not very friendly.

4) Finally finding a cheese factory. Cheese factory vs Everest. It's a tough one.

5) Squat toilets after a leg ache inducing day. Enough said.

6) Chilling with yaks. Such friendly animals. I might bring one home with me.

7) Reaching the lake at Gossaikunda. Legend has it that if you take a dip all of your sins will be cleansed. No need for Yom Kippur for me this year.

8) Walking through fields upon fields of Marijuana. The pictures of this have been censored. I don't want my previously cleansed sins to be reset.

This is the last blog (for now) as I come home tomorrow. If anyone knows of a job going on a national newspaper, please get in touch!