At dawn on the last day of my holiday, I walked down to the shoreline of the cold grey North Sea. Already there were several brave souls in the water. Most were taking an early morning dip dressed only in skimpy swim suits. Others were rowing boats across the bay. I was not even brave enough to dip a toe in the water.

I returned to the hotel and met JG. He took me and TPR to the concert hall where our mutual friend RA was performing in his first ever cello concert. I hadn’t seen RA for years, but he had barely changed: he looked 60 even when when in his twenties. He was not happy when I made mention of this.