I'm becoming well settled here now, to the extent that I am on first name terms with the girl who serves breakfast in the lounge. It's got to the stage where my fresh orange juice is on my favourite table by the window almost as soon as I walk in through the door.
I was kicking back contentedly this morning however when a slightly disturbing thought occurred to me. Here I am lapping up the lifestyle and feeling quite sophisticated, but am I actually completely deluded? Have I become little more than a posh version of a certain Radio Norfolk presenter?