Having moved to Australia 20 years ago, I’m back to England for a lengthy visit unaccompanied by my wife and kids. Giddy with freedom, I make the most of the opportunity to catch up with lots of old mates.

Pints are sunk, football matches attended and muddy walks squelched through in the rain. The joy of these meet-ups is heightened by their rarity, but the long gaps in between also highlight the passage of time. Seeing the changing faces of these lifelong pals is a reminder we’ve now reached that perilous crossroads of our mid-40s where, like it or not, we’re officially middle-aged.