Occasionally I get nostalgic for London.

It’s important to point out here that I am not a Londoner. I just lived there for some time.

That’s not meant to be disrespectful to Londoners. I know lots of them and they are all quite normal. But when you see the upmarket press dubbing this region ‘Chelsea by the Sea’ then the Londoner thing takes on a particular hue.

Norfolkers, Londoners, people from overseas. All are welcome on this very rainbow nation of journals. Except people from Lincolnshire, obviously. They’re just bloody freaky.

Anyway – the nostalgia. I got it yesterday again, when I was driving down the M11 and heard the new ‘Feed the World’ single for the first time.

It got to the bit in the middle, when the young chap tries his rap. And it was just like when I used to be driving around London and my nice easy-listening music would suddenly be interrupted by a short burst from some rubbish pirate station broadcasting in the vicinity.

It happened again, just later in the verse. Genius.

People ask me what I miss about living in London, and I’d like to say ‘the theatres’ or ‘the Tate Modern’ or ‘vibrant multiculturalism’. But actually, it’s staggering into a Tribute-KFC joint at 2am, chatting incoherently to the staff, then walking the streets wide-eyed and happy, munching on chicken.

I did that a bit last night, and it was wonderful.

But now I have an urge to return to civilisation.

My people are calling me.