I never planned to stack shelves at ASDA or New Look, or did filing jobs at a mental hospital in Camden, but in between reporting jobs, en route to my journalistic goals, these were the things I have done to make ends meet.

Like Orwell, sometimes I didn't get lucky. But like him, it was my out-of-luck moments that forced me to reconsider so many things in life, especially the working class life. There was more caramaderie, trust, honesty and joyful spirit on the shopfloors of ASDA and New Look than there are on the London news floors.

I am still a part of the mob.

London to me is what Paris was to Orwell. In London I forged my humanity and journalistic identity. In Paris, Orwell found a voice to his ideas which were to inspire so many story tellers, including myself.