But he will, to me, if only to show off the set of bongo drums that were sent to him by a supporter after the “carry on” and which he is going to get one of his interns to teach him how to play. Table-banging, eye-bulging and with an annoying tendency to shout “a---hole” into my dictaphone at the mention of anyone he dislikes aside, Bloom seems a strangely likeable chap. He is charming, polite and lives a peaceful existence in a cottage near Goole, in the East Riding of Yorkshire, which he shares with his wife Katie, a Jack Russell called Chippy, two pigs and six horses. Decked out in a royal blue shirt and cream chinos, he insists on pointing out all the local landmarks, showing me around the stables and giving me half a dozen free-range eggs to take home “as a bribe”.