Lovely, lovely evening in the Pineapple with Rachel. She even bought me a furry hot water bottle for my birthday which is pretty handy as I can’t sleep in my room with the heating on and the only other available temperature is ‘outdoors’.

Oof – had to stop for a moment there as some psychotic in the catering department buried ¾ of a whole Thai chile in my raw beef & rice salad. Cue comedy chewing, strange expression, light dawning (too late, too late) and then running up and down the corridors swigging coke and screaming. Call me a weed if you like, but seriously, this was a hot chile.

Rachel seems in fine form and full of beans as ever. In fact our conversation was so 'wide ranging' that the lady sitting next to us was patently ear-wigging on us whilst her super dull date was not getting served at the bar. I hope she was entertained. Rachel says that getting served is a genetic thing. You either have it or you don’t. If you don’t then you can improve your technique, and you will get better, but you will never be able to match a true ‘bar presence’ person. I was sceptical but she proved it. If I have one complaint about the Pineapple it is that the bar seems to be run by a bunch of slacker kids and service can be a bit slow. With Rachel ordering – baddabing - baddaboom – served straight away every time.