You may think I have been taking my nomadicity to extremes.  Although I did in fact spend all of Friday night on the streets of London – sleeping “rough” might be over egging the spoon.

True, I laid my head on cardboard boxes and shivered the night away, along with 60 others – but the evening was also spent enjoying Brazilian music and a cheeky carafe of wine.  And the East End of London isn’t quite what it was either.  Expecting a bit of edge, I was disappointed to find that Spitallfields Market was really rather clean and lovely.  Even Wagamamas was in sight.  My immigrant forefathers would have been amazed.

But the night was not really about racking up another perilous adventure, despite claims by friends that I was “brave”.  It was about raising money for children who sleep on the streets every night.  It was about trying to…