Something happened late last night which struck me as so profound and humbling that I knew I had to record it. In fact, for a moment it made me want to cry. My friend Rudy is currently with me, helping me with breakfasts and dinners and stuff. Like John, Dom and Artur, he’s Polish. At about eight or nine last night, having just seen the evening news, he stepped out into my back garden. Nothing unusual of course, but a few minutes later he came back in, a look of relief on his face: he told me that everyone he knew was okay. It turned out he knows about five people in Krakow, including his brother, and had just phoned them to check how they were. To be honest in that moment I wanted to hug the guy with all my heart. To have come here as an immigrant to this vast, sprawling metropolis must be so alienating sometimes; yet it is only thanks to guys like him that it can continue to function. That’s why we must always remember that they will have family and friends back home too, as important to them as they are to us.