The Fun Fair is in full swing in the park just below the flat. It seems to follow me: three weeks ago it was in Vauxhall. There it was located next to fag-hill, where on Sundays hundreds of men –with pumped muscles, short hair and no shirts -– hang out on the grass. I liked the idea of intermingling between the two crowds.

The Fun Fair is an especially tasteless affair: forget what images you have of the circus, bearded ladies, lions and freaks. This is more like gambling machines. Lots of lights and noise and soulless plastic. Lots of signs saying how many coins for each machine. Not sure why, but every ten seconds there’s airport announcement sound – pa-pa-pa-pam! – but no flight details follow.