I found a salad bar, queued for ages, made panicky, poor choices and exited with a mountain of expensive roughage. Then the problems really started. Looking for a sunny spot to eat, I realised how inhospitable the urban built environment is to big-salad eaters – in a part of town full of finance bros in Brunello Cucinelli quarter zips and Patagonia vests, there were no tables, no decent benches, no public gardens.