Part holiday, part local goverment circuit, he arrived back last week – just in time to suspend cabinet member Tony Kershaw over an assault allegation.

Rumours that Parsons now wants an extended Local Enterprise Partnership with Perth, Australia, are unconfirmed.

A few weeks ago I took my gran along to the Apple store in Leicester to show her an iPad.

My fingers danced across the shiny screen, I blitzed through folders full of photos to show her its capabilities, and urged her to hold it in her hands to feel how light it was.

“That’s all very well,” she said, “but why is it any better than my laptop?”

Skip forward a month or so and Prospect Leicestershire chairman Nick Carter sat before a panel of around 12 scrutinising councillors.

A jazzy promotional video was projected onto a screen.

A brochure was handed out which contained so many giant fonts it looked like it had been delivered direct from the large print section of the Pork Pie Library.

Even USB sticks were dished out to the assembled councillors. “What on earth is this?” muttered one elderly sage.

It was an Apple-style all singing, all dancing performance. But it wasn’t enough for Bill Boulter (Lib Dem, South Wigston).

“That’s all very well,  but I think other organisations can do your job cheaper.”

Ouch. But to be honest, it was the closest we came to any real scrutiny during this hour or so.

Dr Kevin Feltham (Con, Gartree) basted Nick with compliments about how “nimble” the agency was. Then he kept repeating it. The word lost its meaning for a second. Nimble is a word you’d use to describe a sprightly safari animal, not a development agency.

As Nick talked about Prospect, Dr Feltham responded with kind of happy groans and syrupy smile you’d make on slipping into a hot bath after an exhausting day.

Hyperactive Peter Lewis, (Con, Loughborough South West) did a little better. He enthusiastically tackled the issue of Prospect’s brochure having too many city pictures in it, and not enough county snaps. He also roasted the promotional video as pointless.

But it would have taken a fair amount of ineptitude to flail in front of this committee, and Nick never swam near any trouble.

When awkward issues were raised (why do most districts get very little in return for the £18k they throw into the pot each year) he stroked his facial hair and nodded earnestly before responding in-depth.

Chief executive David Hughes – wearing a dark orange tie which almost matched his tanned exterior – was able to take a back seat as he watched the chairman deal with each of the questions capably.

In fact, David looked so bored with the entire thing that his files and papers were piled up ready to go before the final question had been answered.

“Come back soon,” members of committee chimed, as the pair got up to leave.

But by then a couple of older councillors were already distracted, jabbing their shiny new USB sticks with a sense of bafflement.

Just one word of warning; if you’re a politician who’s likely to be knocking around in the maze of corridors it would be wise to remember what happened last time a politico thought they were out of sight of the Press.

The walls have ears.

Expect plenty of applicants because the salary if hefty – between £65,697 – £74,910.

Public sector spending restraint in action…

He spoke, in my opinion, the way all council leaders should do: honestly, without jargon, and with an eye for a colourful quote.

You could call him about anything and get an on-the-spot opinion, and if he didn’t know anything about the issue, he’d tell you. It was a welcome contrast to the often guarded style of then city leader Ross Willmott. How times have changed.

Put in a call, or fire off an email to Mr Parsons these days and you’ll wait a few hours before getting a comment sent directly from someone in the communications team on his behalf. “This will be happening more often,” I’ve been told.

This all started with the arrival of Fergus Sheppard. I’ve no doubt that this anti-democratic move has been chalked up as a way of making the council’s PR machine more streamlined. But quite simply, it cuts off the relationship the press should have with a senior politician.

David never seemed to be the type who’d go in for all the spin and image management rubbish, but I can only assume he’s been persuaded to give it a whirl.

And to be honest, because I haven’t needed comments on anything particularly groundbreaking from him in the past few weeks, I’ve let the whole thing slide.

But all councils have to make big decisions over the next year or so about spending decisions, reform and cutbacks.

These are serious issues, which is why I don’t think I should accept any statements released on his behalf through the press office without making quite clear in the story that he’s issued a statement rather than deal with the Mercury directly.

I grudgingly accept why statements are issued on behalf of officers through the press office, but elected members should deal directly with me. If they won’t then surely readers need to be told.

For as long as I can pick up the phone to Veejay Patel, the leader of Leicester City Council, to get a response from him at a moment’s notice, I expect to be able to do the same for the leader of the county council.

10am update: Fair play to David Parsons, he’s called me from the continent. “Let’s sort this out,” he says. I’ll keep readers posted.

The finest example of the party political paranoia that descends during an election campaign was some time last month.

A Labour tweeter was badgering me, calling me a Conservative supporter.

I was quick to point him in the direction of a letter in that day’s Mercury from a Conservative PPC. He was complaining that I had been biased towards Labour in a story the previous day.

The same day, a Lib Dem tweeter complained that their local candidate hadn’t been fairly portrayed in a story that day. I was a Labour stooge, they alleged. However, the candidate in question had already called me to say how pleased he was with the story. I put the pair in touch.

Needless to say, I never heard from either of them again.

He seems like a pretty straight guy and he’s also web savvy, so get hold onto your hats for council 2.0.

He’s certainly got the credentials. He was ITN’s first new media correspondent in 2000. That’s way back when the most interesting thing on the internet was Hamster Dance.

Now – via BBC London, The Scotsman and Harrow Council – he’s arrived in Leicestershire.

I just hope the council’s media makeover is better than his effort at cultivating a Twitter presence.

It has two updates, one asks whether Stephen Fry cut out white wine to lose weight, and the other assures members of the public that Harrow Council hasn’t banned ice cream vans. That was almost a year ago.

C’mon. Use it or lose it, Fergus!

Ian Hislop and friends highlight the row – centred on villagers’ use of a local school hall – in the current edition of the publication, and it’s clear which side they’ve taken.

“Jobsworths at Tory Leicestershire county council want to put an end to the villagers’ right to use their own hall…

“Win or lose, Leicestershire’s stubbornness will cost it dearly… If the council loses, taxpayers could end up forking out in excess of £3m to cover both sides’ costs – enough dosh to build several new village halls.”

City cabinet member Rory Palmer took part in the Obama campaign over in America back in 2008, so he’s got experience of working for one of the slickest campaigns of modern times. His Parliamentary campaign is currently ticking all the right boxes too.

He’s taking his election fight to the doorsteps of Bosworth in the run-up to the general election, “it’s where it’ll be won and lost,” he says. Many of his tweets are tagged with #LabourDoorstep too, as part of his online Twitter movement.

Winning an election on the doorstep is better than winning an election on the back of a horse, a stunt that once briefly ran through his mind.

“We’ve dubbed this election campaign The Battle of Bosworth, and I had visions of me riding on a horse through Bosworth in a suit of armour. Now that would have been the election stunt to end all election stunts.”

Quite. Luckily his Obama-campaign pedigree got the better of him.

He’s sticking to knocking on doors for the foreseeable future.

Like any savvy politicos they moved away from the prying eyes of the Press during their heated debate, and scuttled around a corner to continue their shouting match.

But in County Hall the walls really do have ears. The spot they chose to give each other some choice words was on the other side of a closed office door of a council chief. In that office? Me, of course. Pen and pad in hand, noting it all down.