I must read some Nina Stibbe. Her experiences in London in the 1980's have some similarities with my own. She goes on to write novels and have her letters serialised in BBC television series. And I, well, shred my letters and have shoeboxes of pre-digital photographs stored in tubs in the basement. They have thus far provided some mild amusement to my 16 year old daughter as we rummaged about in search of source material for a family history project.