My love affair with my neighbourhood - Clarendon Park in Leicester - began six years ago, when I first visited the area for a colleague’s birthday celebrations.
I’m not sure if it was her stories of guerrilla gardeners or the excellent tapas at Barceloneta, but the next morning I found myself searching online for rooms to rent and a couple of months later I made the move.
On that first day, hungry from unpacking boxes, I stepped out in search of lunch – and almost immediately bumped into a friendly neighbour who warmly welcomed me to the street.
Fifteen minutes later, the guy chattily wrapping up my doorstop sandwich at Salvador Deli offered to lend me a hand if I needed any help shifting heavy boxes or putting up shelves. I was going to be happy here...