In London you finish work, go to the pub, stay there drinking pints until the last orders bell, get chucked out by the bouncer, squat behind two parked cars to urinate, get some chips and fall asleep on the night bus home, wake up panicked in Finsbury Park bus station, get a dodgy mini cab home with a creepy cab driver, realise you’ve lost your keys and fall asleep on the doorstep, to be woken up at 6am by the newspaper boy throwing your miserable neighbour’s Daily Mail at your head. I have tried to have nights like that in Paris but it just isn’t done.