Stephen Fry’s old bathroom was a place of pilgrimage. I borrowed a bright yellow-striped swimsuit from my cousin DT and plunged into the water. As I relaxed into the bath I noticed the messages that Hugh Laurie had scratched into the tiles. They charted his friendship with Fry over the years, starting with their first encounter at the University of Cambridge.
The only issue I had with the exhibit was that the bathroom suite was brown: I knew that Fry had favoured avocado at the time.