I know about the city because my father is in lockdown there, patiently waiting for the next instalment of his memoirs, which I am recording for him. Lockdown finds curious things for us to do with our time. He is an adept with a computer programme called Vegas, which turns raw recordings into acceptable audio and edits out the beeps and pops.

....

It is curiously agreeable work. I know most of the stories, of course, but there are always surprises. Sometime in the late 1950s, my father flew from India to London and struck up a conversation with a tall, gaunt Swiss in black spectacles in the next seat. At Cairo, the passengers were told the aircraft needed engine work and that they would have a few hours to wait.

The man in spectacles proposed that they should take this opportunity to visit the Pyramids. A taxi took them into the desert. On the way back to the airport, the man leant back in his seat. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘the Pyramids? Very boring. But the Sphinx? A little bit crazy.’

This was the celebrated modernist architect Le Corbusier, on his way home from Chandigarh. I am currently working on Le Corbusier’s voice, giving it just a touch of Inspector Clouseau, but all bets are off until the nuthatch agrees to shut up.