I am a smoker. I can never be sure of the reaction I will get to those words nowadays, though I have hope that Spectator readers are more receptive than most. Anyway, in my case it’s somewhat of an understatement: I worship the goddess Nicotiana. Or, as J. M. Barrie put it: ‘My Lady Nicotine’. Compton Mackenzie had it, simply, as ‘Sublime Tobacco’. And for any vegetarians among you, there’s always Frank Zappa’s ‘my favourite vegetable’.  

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I enjoy many forms of tobacco consumption, but having recently read Thomas Sydenham’s description of a tobacco smoke enema, I am convinced that not all methods are created equal. Cigars? Enjoyable, but exorbitantly expensive. Cigarettes? With one in hand at the moment, I can’t deny they have their place. Snuff? Indisputably messy. But the true King, divinely appointed, is the pipe. So, to pay homage, I made my annual pilgrimage to the UK Pipe Show, held in Nottingham at the weekend. 

The show is held in a pub called the Canalhouse. Rather strikingly, and somehow in keeping with a pipe show, there is a narrowboat moored inside the pub. You have to cross a bridge over it to get to the bar for beer and whisky galore.  

Upstairs, there are a number of stalls offering a panoply of........

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