The report, by Policy Exchange, has severely embarrassed the Tory leadership by suggesting that multi-million regeneration projects are a waste of money and cities such as Bradford, Liverpool and Sunderland should simply be abandoned.

Even the report's author admits he risks being seen as "plain barmy", but my real objection to his work is that it shows an almost wilful ignorance of what is commonly termed "the North".

Anyone who lives here realises that together with the undoubted deprivation of Buttershaw and Manningham, you'll find the prosperity of the leafier parts of the Aire and Wharfe valleys – and all are lumped together in Bradford, thanks to the reorganisation of local government
in 1974.

My friend – let's call him Jim – would no doubt have a chuckle at the report. He's a committed southerner who spent the first 30 years of his life ensconced firmly within the confines of the M25.

Just over a decade ago, his firm dropped a bombshell – they wanted him to relocate to Leeds. Jim couldn't have been more horrified if they'd exiled him to Siberia.

But soon the north began to work its charms. Firstly, Jim was delighted to discover that after selling his bog-standard Barrett box in the South-East, he could afford a magnificent former wool baron's folly with views of Ilkley Moor and the lovely Middleton Woods on the doorstep.

The daily two-hour grind into London was replaced with a 40-minute trip on relatively clean and comfortable trains.

His wife spent her mornings perfecting her ground strokes with the dishy young coach at the tennis club and her afternoons gossiping with new-found friends in Bettys.

The children were enrolled in good state schools and their evenings were crammed with pony trekking, ballet and violin lessons and yet more tennis.

At company get-togethers, Jim became accustomed to the pity – and ridicule – from London-based colleagues. "Have you bought a whippet yet?", "Do you keep coal in the Jacuzzi?" etc.

Jim smiles wanly, as though he hasn't heard them all before, but he is haunted by a terrible nightmare – what if the company decided to move him back to London?

Perhaps he could afford to buy a semi in Bromley; maybe the Northern Line isn't really as hellish as he remembers it; perhaps they'll find schools where
there aren't too many knife fights in
the playground?

Jim prefers not to think about it and, instead, keeps coming up with new reasons why it is imperative he remains in the Yorkshire office. His boss is properly appreciative of the sacrifices he has made for the sake of the company.

As Jim could tell you – the north is a wonderful secret. Let's keep it that way.



Olympic fan

I was a little jaundiced about the Beijing Olympics. The drug scandals of recent years have taken the shine off many events, and the Tibet protests and China's woeful human rights record, all added to a feeling of disillusionment.

But after just a few days of competition, I'm a born-again fan.

First came the opening ceremony that, despite the controversy over the lip-synching tot, managed to be both spectacular and charming.

Then followed some fantastic performances – not least by the Brits and, in particular, our women. When a clearly exhausted Nicole Cooke climbed the winner's podium to collect her cycling gold, her 1,000-watt smile lit up Britain.

Happily, the Olympics are giving us plenty of life-affirming stories of talent, hard work and endeavour. It is what sport should be all about.