As my parents were down visiting for the weekend, I decided that local culture was the way forward. As a result, we walked all the way from my flat in N19 to the British Museum (that’s a 5k walk, fact fans). Its atmosphere of heady wonder and amazement can become overwhelming, so after our fill of the Elgin Marbles and a peek at the Rosetta Stone (Dad is currently reading a book about one of the men who deciphered it), we walked to the end of Bloomsbury Street to Tas, one of several branches in London which specialise in Anatolian food (that’s Turkish as far as I’m concerned). With mum only wanting a ‘light bite’ (why do mums always say this, then pinch most of the food off your plate?) we went meze-style.

Mum claimed she was only having chicken and coriander soup, but Dad and I knew better, so ordered several dishes she could share with us, including a lovely, minty tabouleh, some delicious mushrooms cooked in a rich tomato sauce and smothered in melted cheese, lamb kofte, spinach and feta parcels, and a nice chunky tomato and lettuce salad. It was delicious; really tasty, but not too filling, which was good as we had a substantial dinner lined up for later on. Then we went to see the amazing Wellcome Collection exhibition about Death, which wasn’t even that morbid. Honest.