Sorry to barge back in like this, but I realised just now, as I was sat in the cool air of Carlos’ restaurant, next door to the Times’ offices, eating a delicious curry of vegetables and lurid pink sausage, as I was watching people go by in that deliciously relaxed African manner, as the rhythm of SiSwati chattered through the plastic chairs and the tatty awnings, that this is the kind of lunch break you could spend your whole life seeking. I realise that’s not any comfort to anybody brushing rain from their shoulders in soggy Brighton, but it was a tremendously placid moment for me; all the moaning about early mornings and stress at work are hereby banned. I don't think I'll have too much trouble keeping quiet, though. I really have arrived.
Other Carl sites