She’s got big hands, bloody big feet and a great big voice. "Hurry up," she yells, "I’m freezing me tits off." Janet Street Porter is sitting with her Olive Oyl legs dangling over the triangulation point on the top of Edinburgh’s Blackford Hill. She’s not being rude, unkind or unpleasant, she just’s being, well, Janet Street Porter. Sort of stentorian...
That's a flavour of my encounter with Janet Street Porter. The link is working again so you can go here for a funny interview: Walkabout with Janet
I was on holiday last week, but managed to contribute this column on TV sport to Scotland on Sunday: Armchair anaylst
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