Are you Beatles or Stones?

You find me in the south of France, holed up in that inn of near perfection called La Colombe d’Or in St Paul de Vence. I escape here twice a year and marvel at how little has changed since the 1950s, when it was Mecca for artists of all types, painters such as Chagall and Picasso (Matisse was an early fan between the wars) and stars of stage and screen, Brigitte Bardot, Yves Montand, Simone Signoret, all looking breathtakingly cool, smoking of course. One can still catch a glimpse of the fabulous Dame Joan C and her husband Percy sipping ice cold glasses of rosé. It is a place where the living is easy but civilised – not something one can say about London these days.

Oh London, what have we done to you? ‘To be tired of London…’ Hmm, sorry Dr J, but that is no longer true. Everyone I know is tired of London. The traffic congestion gets steadily worse, the litter and general filth and graffiti builds up daily, the constant tinkering with one-way systems makes driving almost impossible. I take my bike (and my life) in my hands, and attempt the now habitual slalom of e-bikes thrown down willy-nilly, muttering obscenities and longing for the moment when I can escape (if my train hasn’t been cancelled – but that’s for another day) back down to sleepy Wiltshire.