As preposterous as this sounds I think there are few ills that can’t be cured by sitting lazily on a stack of rugs in Liberty and allowing the patterns to wash over you in a warm, and slightly itchy, haze. If you don’t believe me try it. The second you step off the main shopping area the sound and lights dim, the rugs beg to be touched, and all your worries seem to disappear.

My all-time favourite place. Whitewashed ex-smokehouse where Fergus Henderson pioneered the resurgent interest in offal dishes. The restaurant is brilliantly unfussy, retaining lots of the smokehouse’s original features, and the food very British, making St. JOHN something of a London institution. The restaurant has a winery and bakery.

Whipps Cross flats next to Hollow Pond boating lake is where I run. A perfect antidote to the chaos in the city.

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There are libraries full of screaming children and strip lighting, and then there are libraries like The London Library. Whenever I’m there it’s hard to believe I’m not caught inside a wonderful dream, because everything about this place is so perfect as to be almost unreal.