Going up the poll?

YOU have got to hand it to good old Prezza. At least he tried. There we were, stuck in the middle of the most boring election campaign in history - and just when it seemed the Party hacks had every last stage-managed photo-opportunity sewn up tight, along comes the deputy PM to finally strike a blow for real politics.

His meaty left hook was a delight - and it was seized upon with glee by hungry journos who had been starved of anything worth reporting.

For most of the next week the punch was replayed, analysed and argued over in loving, slo-mo detail. It was the only thing that had happened that was of any interest, after all.

But ultimately even 'Thumper' Prescott's heroic efforts failed to liven up the campaign. If anything, they simply made the stage-managing of the campaign by Party hacks even more stifling. Just look at poor John Grogan. When a Tory student lobbed eggs at him during a tour of the York University bars, did he rise to the bait? Not a chance. Obviously coached by the Millbank spin-masters, he merely ducked. "My game is cricket rather than boxing," he said.

Oh for some spontaneity. There's not even any football to watch any more to take our minds off things - and now England's cricketers have developed the annoying habit of winning, even our national past-time of moaning about how useless they all are has been denied us.

So how will you get through the next two weeks of election tedium?

Here are a few suggestions of our own...

1 Get thee to a nunnery! There's probably never been a better time to take a vow of silence and retreat from the world - even if it is only for a few weeks. We're spoiled for choice around here. There are the monks of Ampleforth Abbey for a start - or if you prefer a retreat of a slightly more unorthodox nature, we have our own Buddhist community right on our doorsteps out at Pocklington. If it is just a bit of peace and quiet you are after, meanwhile, you could always try booking into somewhere like The Orange Tree, the North York Moors guest house that specialises in helping you to relax. A spot of yoga, deep breathing and aromatherapy may be just the thing to take your mind off Ann Widdecombe.

2 If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. It may be that you're just plain envious of those fortunate few who've managed to get up close and personal to our hand-shaking, baby-kissing politicians. If you wish it was you who'd managed to throw that Prescott egg, or who'd been able to handbag Tony Blair on the steps of your local hospital, then we have just the thing for you. Log onto www.panlogic.co.uk/splat_the_MP.html and you can lob eggs at your least favourite politicians to your heart's delight. All the party leaders are there, just waiting to be splattered. And if that's not enough to burn off all your frustration, check out www.friendlygiants.com/games/arcade/election_invaders.html where you can work your way through the whole cabinet and shadow cabinet if you want - provided you are quick enough on the draw. Hours of endless fun.

3 Go down the pub - and stay there. Most hostelries, sadly, will be full of people talking about the election - but there's one in York at least where it's strictly off limits. When Monster Raving Loony candidate Eddie Vee tried fund-raising there, he'd collected just £1 selling badges before landlord James Butler called time on any election chatter.

Any punter caught breaking the rule faces the choice of a public hanging a la Dick Turpin - the inspiration for the pub's name - or coughing up some serious readies for charity.

"We want stories not Tories, lager not Labour, sitting on stools not on the fence and pint-supping not point-scoring," says James. And so say all of us.

4 Jet off to some exotic destination in the sun - or even snow - where they've never heard of Tony Blair or William Whats-his-name. Graham Harris of York, independent travel agent Travel Options, suggests Nunavut. Sorry, where? It is Canada's newest state, says Graham, recently given back to the native Americans. "There are no roads, so you could go trekking with the Inuit," he says. That's eskimos to you and me. Alternatively, why not try whale watching off the coast of Vancouver Island, Graham suggests - a great place to see killer whale or grey whale. Sounds like heaven.

5 Spend a few weeks at Her Majesty's Pleasure. The best way of ensuring a prompt stay is probably to make for RAF Fylingdales and stand outside protesting about possible use of the base as a key link in George 'Dubya' Bush's crazed 'Son of Star Wars' missile defence system. If you can square opposing something that's so obviously in the national interest with your conscience, that is.

The best thing about spending the next few weeks behind bars is that if you're banged up you actually lose the right to vote for the duration. What more could you ask for?

6 Get an invitation to spend the next few weeks on a farmhouse in the Yorkshire Dales. That way you're guaranteed all the isolation you could ever want - nobody else will be going near because of foot and mouth. Best of all, you won't get any of those annoying people sporting red, blue or yellow rosettes knocking on your door asking which way you intend to vote.

7 Try and get in to see the new Jorvik centre. It will probably take you two weeks to get to the head of the queue - by which time, hopefully, the election will be over. Failing that, you could get an invite from the York Dungeon. They are usually quite obliging about locking people up.

8 Become a lighthouse keeper. OK, most of the lighthouses around our coasts are automatic now, and don't really need keepers. But a fair number of them have been converted into B&Bs - and what better place to escape the tedium of elections than on a wild, rocky, spray-strewn promontory? Call Trinity House Lighthouse Services (yes, they really are the company in charge of our lighthouses) on 020 7481 6900 to find out more.

9 Try to catch a Virgin train to just about anywhere. You will still be waiting for it to turn up this time next year, when the election is a distant memory. And there's not a TV in sight at York Railway Station.

10 Do a Tom Sawyer. If you are really desperate, take advantage of the hot weather and slap a coat of creosote on the garden fence or shed. Then watch it dry. It's a lot more fun than listening to politicians drone on and at least you will be out in the fresh air.

Updated: 10:58 Friday, May 25, 2001