John Prescott and his battlebus roll into Bristol. Photograph: Matt Caldy/Getty
Oliver Burkeman writes: Away from the TV cameras, John Prescott is fighting a rather old-fashioned kind of election campaign, involving quaint, outmoded concepts like actually meeting real people who might not agree with you, and arguing with them. The Prescott Express - the luxury coach in which he's criss-crossing the country, pumping that now-unbearable U2 song through loudspeakers wherever he goes - pulled up this morning at the Kingfisher shopping centre, in Redditch, and the deputy PM was on high-octane form.
His mission seems to be to shore up old Labour support - lots of references this week to Bevin and Bevan - while bringing a few sceptics on board with his strangely effective form of aggressive charm. "It's all talk - you never do anything," one elderly woman told him angrily today, launching into a lengthy condemnation, but by the end of their exchange she was complimenting him on how slim he looked. He seems genuinely distressed ever to have to leave a voter without having persuaded them he's right, and as a result, even his most implacable critics seem flattered that he's taking their views so seriously.
Oliver Burkeman will be writing more about the Prescott Express in the Guardian
