Today I just want to note a funny little correlation which has sort of been playing on my mind recently. I’m sure many people would say it was just a random coincidence with no meaning and ignore it, but it strikes me as charming enough for a blog entry. These days, I go into Costa coffee shops quite a bit: I often go there for breakfast, and I enjoy their cappuccinos. Possibly more importantly, though, all Costa coffee shops have fast, free wifi, meaning that all I have to do if I need to connect to the web when I’m out and about is pop into a Costa shop. As exciting and enthralling as London can be, it can also sometimes feel rather alienating; so it’s reassuring to know that, if I ever need urgent internet access to get in touch with someone like my parents or PAs, there’s bound to be a Costa somewhere nearby.

The thing is, the name Costa – or Costas – has an extra resonance for me: not only is it now the second middle name of my nephew Elias, but it was the name of my Greek grandfather or Bappou. He lived in London throughout my life, and I think I’ve described how, when I was growing up, we used to drive down to the capital every couple of months to visit him and my grandmother. I have thus always associated my Bappou with London.

Bappou sadly died about twenty years ago. The weird thing is, these days I see his name almost everywhere, looking for it whenever I need a coffee or internet connection. It’s obviously only a coincidence, but I can’t help reflecting that it’s as if he’s still looking out for me. My grandfather was always such a kind, caring man; in a way it feels like he’s still here in London as I make my way through this vast, alienating labyrinth he knew so well.