I call it a Bismark, L calls it Yorkshire Pudding but whatever it’s called it and maple syrup set us up for a day in London and a trip to the theatre.

After a leisurely morning the problem was that we were both hungry by the time we were in central London and no one could make a decision on where to eat. As we’d both been looking at the guide book to Marrakech and dreaming of sun L decided on Maison Touaregue. The deciding factor had been the camel on the restaurant sign.

Heros, written by the unknown French author, Gerald Sibleyras, and translated by Tom Stoppard features Richard Griffiths, John Hurt and Ken Stott. It is set in 1959, in a retirement home for veterans of the First World War. Each day Philippe, Gustave and Henri gather on a quiet terrace, look out across the cemetery to the poplars beyond, and dream of escape. The problem is that none of them can as each has something wrong with them: one a gammy leg, another keeps passing out because of the shrapnel that is still lodged in his head, and another is agoraphobic. Both achingly funny and piercingly sad it is a great show.

Even late in the evening Regents Street was busy and Hamleys was manic. After returning a somewhat hasty and wrong purchase we drifted to the much quieter back streets and some gentle window shopping.

Oh, the food ? Excellent, after all it was the sign of the camel that did it.