Most recently, the astonishing commercial success of a single ringtone has helped to highlight the dangers of expensive premium-rate text and download services. The Crazy Frog, an offbeat piece of electronica based on the revving noise of a moped, proved so popular as a handset ringtone that it hopped to the top of the UK music charts when its tune was adapted to a dance beat.However, its success has come at a price. Today, they're a lucrative multi-million-pound industry with member companies being investigated by watchdogs over price, sales transparency and marketing to minors who are unaware of the costs. When the UK stock market fell in 2000, the splits began to unravel and many of them plummeted in value.Investors' cases will be judged on an individual basis, but those who bought splits via an investment club are not eligible to apply. However, industry estimates suggest that only 17,000 of the 50,000 forms sent out to investors have so far been returned.Last week, the compensation process came under fire from John McFall, a former chairman of the Treasury Select Committee. He reported receiving complaints from investors applying for recompense, who described the form as "bureaucratic" and "intimidating".Often marketed as low risk, split-cap trusts were actually a complex mix of investment vehicles that put money in each other to prop up each other's prices.
Energy suppliers have 12 months to make improvements to the way they bill customers, or face regulatory action. Changes would first be needed to the financial help scheme for water bills, she adds; only 2.4 per cent of consumers eligible for assistance now use it.Both the council and the Environment Agency urge all consumers to be careful with water and ration its use in gardens and for washing.. It was torture watching fellow diners scoffing the juicy haricot beans from their cassoulet, but there is no sausage-free, chicken-free, duck-free version, and every salad comes with its g?ers or its lardons. It seems churlish to commend the way the region has not been spoiled by tourism, while simultaneously expecting food you might get in Islington. Usually, I meekly ate my omelette.Fortunately, my visit coincided with asparagus season and nearly every meal brought a generous plateful.
By far the best were served up at the unpromising-sounding Restaurant des Touristes in Marcilhac-sur-C?, an untouched and faintly sinister medieval village (not so much a Sleeping Beauty as a Miss Haversham). An aged, black-clad lady tottered out with a platter of white asparagus: plump, white, purple-tipped and frankly rude-looking, they came with a blow-your-head-off vinaigrette studded with garlic chunks the size of pearls Even the omelette was terrific. This was a sensational, unpretentious meal, and this little village, on the banks of the C?, which winds through the Quercy national park, is definitely worth a detour.In nearby Gramat, we settled down for a gourmet dinner at the Lion d'Or - the sort of meal where every dish comes with a little hat of parmesan cracknel, a squiggle of sauce or a shard of toffee. As we scooped up the final morsels, there came a startling cry of: "Hel-lo ladies!" You really don't expect to come across a burly British ex-tabloid journalist turned restaurateur in deepest France; certainly not one with quite such robust views on the employment of women of child-bearing age, or such a burning desire to start up murder mystery evenings.
