I apologise for not being very active this week, I've had, for my sins, the worst week on record; professionally and privately, things seem to have gone from bad to worse. Now, flat on my back, I've gestured to the heavens with a resounding 'T'...timeout needed boss, big man upstairs...oh sacred creator.

And so to Cambridge, where anyone should go seeking some form of respite from the bust, boom and ultimate ills of London. Here the air is welcomingly fresh, with an end-of-the-line warmth about the place that sets it aside from other commuter towns.

This is, essentially, home. A place where I can hide in streets I know like the back of my hand, and a place that has been kind to me when it owes me nothing. Don't get me wrong, London offers a unique life, where I can stretch my career limbs in all directions and never touch the walls. It's easy to get caught in a gluttonous wind that will take you high, seeing life from a new perspective, feeling a giddy rush on the ride, which will, occasionally, take you to a sorry fall.

I'm not going to turn this into a fairytale; sometimes you don't win, your friends aren't there for you and you have to stagger to a halt and swallow it. Tough shit. This is life. I'm a lucky man in many respects - I live in a nice house, have nice things and work in a job that changes the world. What's awesome is, next week I know I'll be back on top with a massive grin on my face.