‘Remember when we met and you said you only dated doctors?’ My friend said to her boyfriend during dinner at pan Asian restaurant Naga. ‘I once told Hot Danish that I only date guys who fall within one or more of three ‘f’ categories – fit, famous or filthy rich,’ I said, attempting to diffuse the heated discussion. ‘He now ridicules me for making him poorer and heavier,’ I added. HD also teasingly compares my taste in wine – rich, smooth and heavy – to how I like my men. I didn’t mention a joke a friend once said, ‘What’s the difference between a surgeon and God? God doesn’t think he’s a surgeon.’

I had been looking forward to staying with Monique in her Kensington flat during my London visit. ‘You know, I’m still basking in the joy of my lovely weekend with you in Amsterdam. I found the city, including Fawlty Towers [her hotel experience], and its inhabitants utterly charming,’ she revealed.

In Brighton, another friend wanted to know all about my trip. ‘There are too many closed down shops, plus dog poo everywhere and packs of drunks roaming the streets here,’ she said. ‘I enjoyed my job and had great friends in London. I miss the culture and the feeling of being near life if that makes sense.’

‘Yes,’ I agreed, remembering how much I had dreaded leaving London for Amsterdam. ‘Also, I think living in an alternative city to the one you grew up in always gives you a fresher perspective and challenges you more,’ I added, thinking of how little I’d like to return, as she had, to live in my hometown.

Florist Orlando Hamilton once told me that his life motto is; ‘Love and be curious. It’s quite lovely to be open to what’s over the next horizon.’ It is a great philosophy to remind oneself of when one reaches the end of a relationship, job or location or when a new beginning seems difficult. It was something I was reminded of when my friend brought up her boyfriend’s past dating habits and how, a year after meeting Hot Danish, I was living in a city I hadn’t even previously visited.