So I’m standing on the Canary Wharf escalator, the final one, that takes you to ground level, and I so far haven’t been convinced by the busker at the bottom, who’s just playing live guitar solos over backing cds, nicely controlled and all, but not exactly stunning. And then, that skyscraper just to your right emerges out of nowhere, and he melts into a wonderfully gooey solo on Hey Joe, and the sun glints off the skyscraper, and suddenly I grin on the inside and then on the outside, because that was a kind-of pretty damn good moment for a morning commute.

He wasn’t really that bad a guitarist, anyhow.