Kitchen gardens. My fantasy is, eventually, to move to the country from our flat in Holland Park and to be able to tend my beds of carrots and courgettes and onions.
Tom Waites music. I will travel miles to see him in concert.
Spring. I love that moment some time in late March where you can smell the change of season in the air.
The St Matthew’s Passion. Spring lamb on the table and St Matthew’s Passion in my CD player seems to epitomise Easter for me.
Loose paving stones. I’m forever tripping on them in London and finding myself up to my ankles in the puddle that’s invariably hidden beneath it.
Shop changing rooms. Nothing makes you look fatter, balder, older and generally more stupid than the kind of stark fluorescently lit mirrors that you get in them.
Battery farming. I have very strong views about animal welfare and would willingly campaign in bitterly cold weather outside chicken farms, for example.