I am never at my best in the early morning especially a cold morning in the Yorkshire spring with a piercing March wind sweeping down from the fells finding its way inside my clothing nipping at my nose and ears.
In the sixties everyone you knew became famous. My flatmate was Terence Stamp. My barber was Vidal Sassoon. David Hockney did the menu in a restaurant I went to. I didn't know anyone unknown who didn't become famous.
