I always thought that one of the things about going to Cambridge University was that you had a guarantee that at least some of your fellow students would end up running the world. Not in my case. The Gonville and Caius College class of 1984 has produced a few respectable academics. But the only fellow student who has done something really interesting with his life is Richard Tomlinson, who joined British intelligence and then had a spectacular disagreement with his employers. MI6 sacked him and Richard ended up serving a term in Belmarsh prison, for breach of the Official Secrets Act - after trying to publish a book about his life as an agent. MI6 also accused him of publishing a list of British agents on the internet - a charge he denied.

Tomlinson is now living as a semi-fugitive in France. But he has not disappeared from view. Yesterday he made a video-link appearance at the inquest into the death of Princess Diana - and strongly implied that MI6 might have had a hand in her death.

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I notice that the comments posted about Bill Gates so far have all been pretty hostile. Having just met him for the first time, I have to say I’m a fan.

I have no firm views on the merits of the anti-trust cases against Microsoft. And I am not a teccie person, so I’m not joining in the debate about the merits of Microsoft products.

But Gates himself is truly impressive - both as an intellect and because of what he is doing with his vast fortune, through the Gates Foundation. You would expect a man who had achieved business success on his scale to be energetic, ruthless, very clever and very competitive. And Gates clearly is all of those things.

What I was not prepared for was the voraciousness of his intellect. He is now applying all the energy that he put into software and business to development and disease eradication. And he can (and does) hold forth at length and in detail on a wide variety of topics - from the different forms of female mosquito, to Aids vaccine trials, the reform of the New York school system and the history of the Rockefeller foundation. The enthusiasm, optimism and knowledge with which he speaks is quite reminiscent of that other Bill - Clinton. Without being in any way lachrymose, Gates is clearly really troubled by global poverty - and determined to do something about it.

I realise that the default position of this blog is never to get too enthusiastic about anything. But I was really impressed by Gates. Sorry about that. Normal service will be resumed soon.

The great thing about British, as opposed to American journalism, is that in Britain you can get away with statements of monumental vagueness.Here is a fine example from this week’s Spectator. Norman Stone - a historian who once lectured to me (and others) at Cambridge, before emigrating to Turkey, via Oxford - is the author of this week’s Spec diary.

He writes that - "I have read somewhere that at the time of the Marshall Plan - announced when I was six in 1947 - we smoked 90% of our dollar earnings?" This statement prompts several questions:

a) Can you remember where you read this, Norman? b) By "we" do you mean the British population? c) What kind of a mind would try to calculate the percentage of Britain’s dollar earnings that was spent on fags? d) Does this figure sound even remotely plausible? e) What would happen to the Spectator if a New Yorker style fact-checker was let loose there?

Even at Cambridge in the 1980s, Stone stood out for the amount that he smoked and drank. His Spectator diary praises the Turks for their commitment to smoking. (And Ataturk, one of Stone’s heroes, was a pretty fiercesome drinker, as well.) As someone who has recently started smoking again, I suppose I should share Stone’s dismay at the current crackdown in Britain - in particular the rule against smoking indoors.

But, actually, I think I am in favour of the ban on lighting up in the office. The only time I get a breath of fresh air is when I have to go outside for a cigarette.

If you are on the international affairs circuit - and you play your cards right - you could probably spend most weekends conferring about something or other. Of course, the importance of the subject and the level of the participants are all factors when deciding whether to give up your weekend. But - as conference organisers well know - a swanky location is always a big draw. And they don’t come much grander than Ditchley Park in Oxfordshire, where I have just spent the weekend. The conference itself - on immigration to Europe - was interesting, and I’ll probably write about it soon. But Ditchley - one of the great country houses of England - is an experience in itself. It was a favourite of Churchill’s who stayed there 14 times in the war.

By tradition, English country houses should be slightly uncomfortable. I have always liked the cartoon of a hostess showing a guest to his bedroom and saying - "It’s rather cold, so I’ve put an extra dog on your bed." But, at Ditchley, they now even have mod cons like central heating.

The entertainment, however, was like something out of a Jane Austen novel. On Saturday night, I found myself listening to an impromptu piano recital in the drawing room. In an Austen novel, it would have been Elizabeth Bennett or some other charming young woman tinkling the ivories. At Ditchley, it was a couple of British ambassadors in black tie, playing a Schubert duet. It certainly made a change from watching "Match of the Day" on a Saturday night.

There was only country house ingredient missing. I felt the weekend would have been complete if they could have arranged for one of the guests to be murdered. Then - according to tradition - a detective would arrive from the local village. We would all have been interviewed in the library. And the following morning the detective could announce - "It was Sir Andrew Green with the lead piping in the green drawing room."