We found a teddy bear in a church. Two young girls, selling their old toys and books for charity. We had stumbled across the church on a Sunday stroll. The sun was high and warm, with a strong coastal breeze. It stood, imposingly large , and we ducked in for the shade. Artists were using it as a gallery for their pieces, displaying mirrored statues and seascapes in an open house. Brighton Festival was in full flow and artists around the city had opened up their houses for the public to see and admire. It felt like we had discovered our own Berlin, our San Francisco on this frigid green isle.

We called him Barnabus. He now sits on the Indian chair. Foraged and assembled by Dan on one of those weekend courses, we found the natural hemp rope for the seat in Pondicherry. It was one of those small shops you only find in India, highly specialised in rope. Every type you could wish for. And we did. We lugged it with us, on our train journeys that lasted days and on dusty, hot roads looking for accommodation. It completed the backpackers look but it was actually necessary. We couldn’t have afforded the same here.

So Barnabus, bought for 50p, sits on the rope seat. He is at home here. A guest, but still, at home.