I do love a Prom and last week it was Daniel Barenboim’s turn to wow me with the fabulously-titled West-Eastern Divan Orchestra. Ooh, thought I, men in silky turbans casually strumming their instruments while lying down and quite possibly smoking opium. Instead, it was banging Beethoven and everyone was suited and booted. Meanwhile, in the second tier, box number 50, I sat with two poofs and an insipid French man who frowned when I took my shoes off and refused my offer of a fruit pastille. I tried to explain I had blisters owing to my toes swelling to the size of chipolatas in my peep toe Crocs but he wasn’t interested or didn’t understand a word I was blethering on about. Talking of Daniel Barenboim, I was most impressed that he had a hand in carrying the Olympic flag at the opening ceremony. Shame his lovely conductor arms were swamped by the flapping arms of his white two piece. All that money – you’d think he’d have an unpick. Overall, I loved the opening ceremony but a few things I would have changed: Evelyn Glennie on the plinky plonky – she looked a bit demented in that wig. And that shot of the Queen picking her nails – unfortunate. And Jacques Rogge, quite possibly the most miserable man in the world. Will someone please give him an eye lift. I’ve got to go now, the men’s gymnast team is pommelling and they need me to scream.