I forgot to mention two things about our little escapade to London last week. Call them my weekend moaning points, served with a side of British politeness.

1. The signal that wasn’t

Phone coverage in London is not improving. You’ll be lucky to get a decent 4G connection, and 5G is more of a rumour than a service. I’m spoiled: in our little corner of south west France I enjoy 5G+ almost everywhere, including places where there are more cows than people. As a committed data glutton, I found myself staring at a loading wheel in one of the world’s great capitals, feeling like I’d been sent back to 2009. The city has everything except the one thing I wanted: a bar of signal that stays put.

2. The allergy question

Every restaurant, within seconds of walking in, asks the same thing: “Do you have any allergies?” Sometimes it’s even printed on the bill, just in case you develop one between the starter and dessert.

I understand the reason, and I’m sure it’s saved many lives. But I can’t shake the urge to answer, “We shall find out, won’t we?” It feels like being asked to sign a waiver before the bread basket arrives. I’m told the staff don’t find this funny. I haven’t dared test it.

So there you have it: poor signal and an overly cautious waiter. Rough stuff, I know. These are my moaning points this weekend, and I feel much better for having shared them.

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