They’re far worse than mice, chew electrical wiring, smell awful and you can’t exterminate them… how I discovered the new breed of vermin that’s terrorising thousands – and this is the area worst affected: ALEXANDRA SHULMAN

The other day I was complaining to a friend about a mouse I found wandering around the kitchen. He had little sympathy. “At least you don’t have glis glis,” was his nonchalant response.

I had never heard of glis glis, but it turns out they are a rare but devastating pest.

A few of them, resembling the fat dormouse with gray fur, big eyes and distinctive bushy tails, were brought to this country from Italy at the beginning of the 20th century by the curious zoologist Lionel Walter Rothschild, 2nd Baron Rothschild.

He added these to his world-famous collection of native animals and plants at his family residence, Tring Park, in Hertfordshire.

Six of the glis glis are thought to have escaped, and an estimated 30,000 now roam the Chilterns in Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire and Berkshire.

Their cute looks are deceiving considering the chaos they cause. Imagine the Terminator dressed as Bambi.

Glis glissians live in wall cavities, pipes and attics and are most likely to be found in older, uninsulated homes. They chew on electrical wires, wander around noisily at night, and often leave traces of foul-smelling urine.

As my friend can also express, it is very difficult to get rid of them. Because guess what? They are a protected species and therefore can only be removed by licensed pest controllers. It’s no wonder my friend occasionally takes the risk of dealing with the problem himself when he gets his hands on something.

So far these pests have essentially remained in their original stopping places. They are rare to appear in London, although 145 were once found in one house in the city, according to pest control experts Pest UK.

Suddenly the odd mouse and squirrel chasing around my west London garden seem much more benign.

Vampire Black Cumin cooks with gas

There can’t be many of us who have never watched Bake Off, but now Nigella will be the judge, I’ll be watching for the first time.

This isn’t an insult to Mary Berry or Prue Leith, who I think are excellent – although how hard can it be to cram in a ton of carbs while passing judgment?

The truth is, I find everything Nigella watches fascinating. Not because of her unique sexual innuendos (although I wonder how she would approach a shower of cream without being suggestive), but because of her ability to craft a TV persona.

How will he adapt his real self to Bake Off?

Admired by millions, TV Nigella is a magnificent creation, nothing like the Nigella Lawson I first met decades ago.

Now that Nigella will be a judge on The Great British Bake Off, I’ll be joining in for the first time.

She has always been a regal beauty in the style of Cleopatra and loves to dress up for fun, occasionally doing make-up with the best of them. But she was, and still is, much more comfortable in sloppy, plain clothes than the big-breasted look she appears on cooking shows.

She always had a distinctive voice – fast with Monroe’s breathy touch – but she learned how to amplify and exaggerate it for television.

The more democratic, downplayed ladette vowels of many presenters are not his thing; but come to think of it, both Mary and Prue sound more like Sir John Betjeman’s 1940s muse, Joan Hunter Dunn. Maybe it’s a culinary issue.

The real Nigella will have thought about how she will interact with the rest of the Bake Off community. Will Paul flirt with Hollywood? I doubt it. Will he leave Alison Hammond behind? Probably not.

Channel 4 will no doubt want a little more of her sex appeal, but she’s smart enough not to want to be seen as remotely predatory. Whatever he does, it will be a lot of fun.

While Nigella’s TV shows have brought her huge fame, Bake Off puts her in the National Treasure league. A Burberry campaign and ladyship are definitely around the corner.

Bard is so gloomy in difficult times

Irish actress Jessie Buckley as Agnes Shakespeare (center) in Hamnet

Hamnet is clearly a remarkable film, but nothing could persuade me to watch it. The world is so cruel right now that choosing to immerse myself in misery is not on my list of activities.

For a few months now, I’ve been avoiding reading or watching things that would upset me.

It’s not that I want to live on a diet of Gavin and Stacey reruns – although I do return to them frequently for a quick fix – but I do stay away from stories about death and trauma that are too bleak to tell. There’s Radio 4’s Today program for this and BBC News on Ten.

Stockholm will give you a warm glow

If I were an urban planner, I would use Stockholm as my style inspiration. Not because there are lots of bike lanes, but for the great street lighting.

When I visited Sweden’s capital last week, I was struck by how despite the lack of sunlight in the winter months, it never seems oppressive.

Stockholm’s street lamps don’t have as ugly a glare as those in England. They’re a mix of historic and modern, but even those with LED bulbs emit a warm glow.

And few residents close their curtains or blinds, allowing stylish pendant lights or candles to illuminate the streets as daylight fades.

A bagpipe-led tribute to die for

London may have bad lighting, but it’s still a city of meaningful little communities. On Friday, much-loved London property surveyor Harry True, who died suddenly at the age of 62, was sent off by a long procession of mourners accompanied by bagpipes.

The road was lined with local shopkeepers standing outside to pay their respects to a man who probably visited all our homes for one reason or another.

It was a majestic sight and reminded me of designer Tom Ford’s comment about excessive tributes to a fashion personality: ‘You’d have to die to get service like this.’