I have to mention breakfast at the hotel. The food isn’t bad, it is nutritious and based on carefully measured portions. But things like flavour, taste and variety are not a central issue. There is something about 3 fried eggs, a piece of cheese, a piece of salami and a pot yoghurt which soon ceases to appeal. I find myself fantasising about carrying a little handbag kit containing a bottle of olive oil, salt, pepper and maybe some mayo. That’s what comes of coming to Moscow with all the history and culture of a fully-fledged consumer economy behind me, rather than a centrally planned one. Maybe the supposedly new Russia of conspicuous consumption hasn’t reached this hotel yet.