Freelance Journalist and Writer

"Keep going down the Nationale until you come to a sign marked with the name of the village. Mind how you go, though, because the sign is rather faint. Turn left and we are little further down on the right." 

Chris Patten's instructions as to how to find his converted farmhouse deep in the department of the Aveyron were concise enough, but it is difficult to describe how very remote and isolated his chosen part of France is. The contrast with the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong could hardly have been more dramatic. All part and parcel of the Patten plan?

"I have always loved France," he explains, "having spent many family holidays in this particular area over the year. I find la France profonde wonderfully calming. We bought this house nearly four years ago. I arrived overnight from Hong Kong and was jet-lagged the first night. I woke up pretty early and came downstairs, made myself some coffee and sat out in the courtyard on the bottom of the steps. Suddenly there was an explosion of noise overhead. I looked up and it was a flight of doves. Now, after Hong Kong, the noise of jack-hammers, the buzz of air conditioning systems, the traffic, the wall of sound - to be disturbed by dove-wings struck me as a pleasant contrast! France is a large country and I love the sense of space."

Is that something you needed post-Hong Kong?

"I think I needed it while I was in Hong Kong. I used to find myself in meetings doodling away. When I would look at what I had been doing I discovered that I had been making outlines of the house here - and it was always a great comfort to have this place to come to."

The perfect setting of peace and tranquillity, one would imagine, for the writing of his book East and West, due to be published by Macmillan this September. Well, not exactly, because the calm of the Tarn was disrupted, momentarily at least, when his original publishers HarperCollins decided to unceremoniously drop Chris Patten's opus from their list, with a number of questions being asked about Mr Murdoch's precise motives. 

"Some people say that he doesn't interfere with his papers and publishers and broadcasting media," Patten comments. "Others say that, of course, he does - its only normal for a businessman to take a hands-on approach. Being a charitable fellow I would like everybody to believe whatever Mr Murdoch would like us to think."

No wonder there is a wry smile on Christopher Patten's face: for not only did he reach a financial settlement with HarperCollins with which he is "delighted", the title has since been purchased by Macmillan who are themselves delighted with the publicity which, in normal circumstances, would have cost millions of pounds, the best-seller list surely beckoning as a result, in common with the Dimbleby book on the same subject. But the Patten book is not, the Last Governor is anxious to point out, conventional memoirs or autobiography. "I hope that it will surprise people," he says tantalisingly.

Okay - so here's the predictable question - what was it actually like to be Governor of this last outpost of Empire?

"Well, it was not like being a British cabinet minister. While you have the same weight of work and responsibility there is no collegial aspect to the job. Which meant that although my friends in London were extremely supportive I was undoubtedly more exposed. I also had extremely heavy political responsibilities - not only in dealing with China but also being Mayor of Hong Kong. I also found myself for the first time - and probably the last - with people who cleaned my shoes and who cooked and laundered. They did that wonderfully well, but it was all a bit of a surprise. And I guess, if I am honest, I was also surprised by the amount of attention and celebrity which we attracted - far greater than anything I had anticipated."

Yes, but how did it actually feel to be the Governor? Was it exciting, stressful, challenging…?

"Yes, it was all of those things. It was a hugely interesting job like none other. And I am delighted that I did it. I will probably never do anything as interesting as that again. Unless I am incredibly lucky that is. But five years was enough. Which is no disrespect to the people of Hong Kong, nor to the people I worked with. But five years was quite a stint. And having a sell-by date made life even more curious."

I have opened up my new edition of the Concise Oxford Dictionary - page 1132, to be precise. Success is defined as: "Favourable outcome, accomplishment of what was aimed at…". According to that definition, would Mr Patten be prepared to characterise his Governorship as a success?

"Well that's a matter for others to decide," Patten retorts, reverting to his professional politician's patter. "That really is a question for the historians."

Come on, Mr Patten. According to that definition was your term of office a success? Yes or no? I am no Robin Day, but I thought I would have a go nevertheless.

"Well, we (Britain) left Hong Kong rich in financial terms, rich in the fabric of civil society. We left it with a sense of self-confidence about its ability to protect its freedoms and I think that we can legitimately say that we departed with honour. So all in all, if you are pushing me, I think that it was a pretty good story."

An emotional story too. With more than the odd damp handkerchief as the final few weeks of the drama were played out. And the most emotional moment of all? When a group of Patten's friends ushered him towards a packed church in the New Territories where a full choir and orchestra, in the presence of favourite priests from Hong Kong, Haydn's Nelson Mass was played, with not a dry eye in the holy house.

What about the grub then? "Oh, terrific," Patten retorts, happy to be moving on. "Hong Kong is one of the very best places in the world for eating. I was very keen on a great knuckle of pork which our chef used to prepare for us - not brilliant for the cholesterol, mind you. And all the family loved Peking duck, Singapore noodles and steamed fish with ginger. We can't do much Chinese cooking here in France, unfortunately, because you must have a big enough flame on the stove for a wok. But I make up for it by having a nice Chinese meal in London - something I really look forward to."

You're not at all squeamish then? I take it that anything goes?

"Well not exactly. I am not very keen on fishes' stomach lining and I never tried cockerel's testicles. Or dog for that matter."

Dog? Well that's hardly surprising, for since beating a dignified retreat from Hong Kong on the Royal Yacht Britannia, in the company of Prince Charles and Prime Minister Tony Blair, Patten has become the focal point for the debate about the reform of Britain's antiquated quarantine laws. He will just about forgive you if you refer to this as his pet subject - and no interview would be complete without mention of the two best known Norfolk terriers in the world, Whiskey and Soda. A review is currently being undertaken by the government with a report expected this autumn.

"Frankly the sooner the government gets on with this and buries what is a ludicrous policy, the better. We don't want to put our dogs into quarantine, which means that our movements are pretty restricted. Fortunately a very nice couple who live close by help out with Whiskey and Soda when we are away. It is a totally unscientific policy, causes people untold misery, heartache and expense, is totally unnecessary and is an example of the worst sort of xenophobia."

Perhaps I have been unwittingly seduced by his hospitality and charm, but Patten in full flow is a formidable figure, and it is difficult to believe that we have seen the last of the last Governor, even though he was anxious to scotch the notion that he might be a candidate for the post of Lord Mayor of London. Nonetheless, all the signs seem to be pointing toward a return to public life. As from next year the Pattens are going to spend more time in Britain, not France. He also recently accepted an invitation to become a non-executive director of The Independent newspaper: "because I believe that there's a niche at the top end of the market for a quality newspaper in the UK". And from his every utterance it is only too clear that he remains intensely interested in public affairs, and in the development of the European Union in particular.

Could he not see himself back in the House? "Maybe."

At the moment you are very involved with your book, and the four BBC TV programmes based around it. But might you not get a little fretful if, say, this time next year, you are still undecided as to what to do?

"Yes, I think that's a fair way of putting it. At the moment I am rather enjoying life as it is - a kind of rite de passage post-Hong Kong. But I genuinely don't know what will happen next. No one is pressurising me. Nor am I pushing things myself. My approach is to wait and see."

If Patten is not saying what he might be up to in the future, would he at least be prepared to commit himself in relation to the past? How would he like people to remember him a century or two hence?

"I think that the drafting of epitaphs is a rather dangerous process, as is anticipating the verdict of history," he says.

Oh, zut, he is not saying, once again.

"Actually, I was always rather attracted to Dorothy Parker's inscription on her gravestone 'Excuse my Dust'," he says with that serious half-smile.

"But if you are twisting my arm, again, then what I would hope is that if 'public servant' was inscribed on my gravestone, then people would think that that had been an honourable thing to be."

But members of the Conservative Party please note. Mr Patten's public service has still to run its course.

The full text to this article can also be found at

www.saga.co.uk/publishing/specials/chrispatten.html