Sir John Soane’s Museum. It’s an education simply being there, with all the etchings and busts and that sarcophagus. The panelling alone is vaut le voyage.
Most romantic thing someone’s done for you?
My boyfriend was working in the House of Commons, I was working in Southwark. He asked me to meet him at Westminster Tube, got down on the platform on one knee, took out a box containing a whopper of a sapphire engagement ring and asked me to marry him. I said yes.
Best place for a nightcap?
Julie’s on Clarendon Cross. Large glass of white Burgundy, please.
Which building would you like to be locked in overnight?
The Savoy. I’d start in the Beaufort Bar, dine at the Grill, and end up in one of the suites on the river — and never leave.
Biggest extravagance?
Frothy coffees, and my three children.
Best piece of advice you’ve been given?
‘Don’t think how you’re doing, think what you’re doing’, from my grandmother.
Last album you downloaded?
My children have hijacked my iTunes. It’s all out of my hands. I think we have the new Bowie.
What do you collect?
Readers, I hope.
Winter Games by Rachel Johnson is out now (Penguin, £7.99)
