I WRESTLED, bare-handed, with one on Richmond Hill. People watched with bated breath to see who would come out on top but, typically, no one came to help.

It was a fierce day with the wind howling and it soon became apparent that only one of us would survive undamaged.

Fortune favoured the fool and, thank heavens, I ended up unscratched. My opponent, a stubborn but cheap folding umbrella, was left doubled up in a litter bin with two ribs badly broken.

I mention this merely to point out that I am no friend of umbrellas. The blighter that tangled with me was the latest in a long line to challenge my authority on windy days and I haven't replaced it.

But I'm in the neutral corner when it comes to umbrellas in general and don't hold grudges. Even when it comes to the big fellows that seem to have sprung up outside so many pubs and cafés following the law banning smoking in public places.

Christchurch council, however, took a more muscular view of the threat posed by one particular jumbo-sized umbrella put up outside a quayside restaurant to keep customers out of the rain.

It didn't just ask for it to be taken down, it took out a criminal prosecution, no less. And lost.

Now I am all for councils taking robust stances against things that are eyesores or dangers. There's many an ugly edifice or phone mast in Britain that makes your jaw plummet in wonder at how it got past planning laws.

But to fork out for a prosecution over an umbrella, however big, makes the council look like silly burghers.

It was a decision that put my own ridiculous battle with a brolly in the shade.