I’m on a day trip to London.

I feel such a tourist.

Even though I was born and brought up in London, I have the sense that I don’t have the right to be doing what I’m doing today.

Surely I should be at work rather than sightseeing during the day and attending an evening talk at the Royal Institution.

It’s a hot day so I sit in Green Park for a while doing what is undeniably everyone’s favourite pastime: people watching. I wonder what jobs are done by the people strolling past talking animatedly to their colleagues as they head back to their offices. I wonder where all the groups of people doing gentle exercise in circles are heading to when their class is over.

A phrase comes to mind which sums up my feelings about no longer working. It’s the line from Romeo and Juliet. “Parting is such sweet sorrow”.

I do have mixed emotions: pleasure that I can move on to something different with the potential for new experiences but also pain that I’ll be saying goodbye to so many valued colleagues.

Yes, sweet sorrow. That’s what I feel.

Oh, that reminds me. My sincere apologies to the branch of Waterstones which I treated as a library by picking up a new hardback, finding a comfy armchair and spending several hours reading it before placing the book back on the display.

I somehow doubt I’m the first – or will be the last – person to do this.

The book? It’s the latest novel by David Nicholls.

The title? Sweet Sorrow.