We knew we were paying through the nose, but boy did we need it. A long series of mishaps and delays (no I won’t go into them except that at one point I thought I’d been shot back into the film Bagdad Café as, bag in hand, I trudged along an endless, empty road) had meant that it was mid-afternoon when we finally emerged from the Channel tunnel. We were famished and frustrated, but our priority was a DIY store to pick up some items my friends had spotted on a website. Our steely determination temporarily won the day but an hour or so of wandering through the Gallic equivalent of B & Q was enough; our stomachs were crying for revolution.

I’ve been out intensively tasting again - in tune with the crackling leaves, blue skies and increasingly crisp air of autumnal London. As always, our capital’s food isn’t always of these shores nor is it always inside walls. While going at my usual accelerated pace through Islington the other day, I rounded a sharp corner and almost fell headfirst into a giant paella pan. This is it.

Serendipitous indeed, as the saffron yellow and fishy-chickeny aromas seemed pretty genuine to my alerted senses. This was going to make up for the paella I missed at the recent Taste Spain event at Borough Market (which incidentally while generous and delicious also came up with some great product discoveries). The rub came though when I started chatting to the behatted gentleman wielding an outsized spoon while his paella gently simmered. He turned out to be French, not even from the Spanish border but from deep in la France profonde of the centre. Ah well, no matter, globalisation bounds on. I made sure to pass by again an hour later when the paella was ready. Despite its Gallic origin it hit the spot - creamy with a good dose of prawns, chunks of chicken and that unbeatable saffron backtaste.

Hah! tricked you! Anyone who thought my blog would be about far-flung travels better think again. Just a year ago, even 6 months ago this was the case. For the moment though I’m in a serious gestation period and that, coupled with a string of inspiring happenings here in London, is keeping me firmly grounded. My ‘green’ friends approve of course, having repeatedly ticked me off for my heavy carbon bootprint. But, as usual, you can travel widely within the M25 so why take to the skies? This week for example, I’ve been to Turkey, Szechuan, Afghanistan and Rwanda.