I always wanted to live in London. I grew up in Lancashire, but my best friend’s father lived in the capital and we would sometimes go and visit. He was the only person I had ever met who ate out for breakfast, and he did so every day, ordering poached eggs at a Kensington cafe called Dino’s. He dined out most nights too, and when he came up north, could not believe that everywhere stopped serving food by 8pm. He lived in a basement, which I thought was incredibly sophisticated – no one I knew even lived in a flat. I was determined to live this decadent, metropolitan life and I did, for much of my 20s. It was mega.
Related: Record proportion of Londoners selling up to move north
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