During the last general election I spent a couple of days trailing Nigel Farage as he campaigned in Buckingham, where he was standing for parliament. There were a lot of pub visits. During one I watched Farage being interviewed for television, demonstrating his especial talent for repeating a shopworn soundbite – something about creating an earthquake in British politics – and making it seem as if he’d only just thought of it. As I stood just outside the ring of onlookers, a Ukip member leaned close to my ear and said, “If he went under a bus tomorrow, we’d be buggered.”

On election day Ukip supporters were offered a glimpse of just such a future when Farage was injured in a light aircraft crash. But five years on it doesn’t look as if Ukip-without-Farage would be any less buggered; arguably, they might even be more buggered.

Ukip still retains its image as a one-man band. Can you name a single member of the team Farage appointed last spring in an effort combat this very problem? Most Ukip members still reach the apex of their public profile upon being expelled from the party, or leaving to form another, weirder party (Veritas, One London, We Demand a Referendum, New Deal and the British Freedom Party were all founded by disgruntled Ukippers).

They can’t even claim a hint of political competence: selectors for the Basildon constituency were left with a choice between a previously deselected bigot and Neil Hamilton – and now they have neither. Its highest placed politicians are two guys who were both Tories last summer. Actually, there have been two defections the other way since the last election, but not any one you would have heard of.

As a politician Farage is both deft and durable. I found him hard to dislike, and I was giving it a fair go. He still emerges unscathed from what would normally be considered bruising media encounters, and he’s good at amplifying the electorate’s vague disgust with everything. But the rest of the party should pray daily for his continued good health.

Special services

Do you know about Tebay services? If you live in that part of Cumbria – or drive a lot – I’m sure you do. But in all my travels up the M6 over the years I have never happened to need a pee between junctions 38 and 39, until last week. If you’ve been there, you can imagine my surprise; if you haven’t, you almost certainly can’t.

Tebay services is, quite simply, the nicest motorway services I have ever seen, anywhere. It has a proper restaurant, a complete absence of fast-food chain outlets, insanely clean toilets, a farm shop with an impressive wine and beer collection, and a butcher. I only went in for a coffee, and I almost bought a jumper.

I was still on my way north, however, and it made more sense to stop on the way back and load up. I hatched a plan to do all my Christmas shopping there, in one go. But when I returned a few days later I was road weary and anxious. Buying a rolled rib of beef in a motorway services seemed like a stupid idea, and so did sitting down to a proper meal with so many miles left to travel. I ate a pie standing up, and left.

But Tebay is a thing to see – as, apparently, is its newer cousin, Gloucester services on the M5. I’d tell you to make a special trip, but that would be missing the point entirely.

Defeated by a dolphin

With Ukip presenting such a potential threat in the coming general election, it is interesting to look back at how poorly Farage fared last time around. He was standing against the speaker, John Bercow, in a contest where none of the main parties even put up candidates. Even so, he came third, behind an independent former MEP who campaigned alongside a guy in a dolphin suit. I think people thought they were voting for the dolphin.