Walking out of the tent half an hour later my stomach feels rounded for the first time in months, almost painfully so as my insides stretch to accommodate the volume of food I’ve just put inside me as easily as inhaling air. I forgot what it was like to feel that hungry, and then to over-eat to this extent. I might actually have to loosen my belt before we get walking again.

Eating has been a pretty functionary activity for quite some time. It’s not been something I’ve taken any care over. Cooking for one is very different to the joy that comes with creating a meal for two. I always loved those meals where we’d come together and talk about our days while eating the food we’d prepared along with a bottle or two of wine. We loved sampling new dishes, trying out new recipes from our mums that they’d unearthed from old recipe books, both trying to keep traditions alive in our mash-up of cultures.

Food hasn’t been the same for me since. I’ve slowly made my way through the meals placed on my doorstep or in my freezer by people wanting to show they’re thinking of me, but I couldn’t tell you what a single meal tasted like in that first month or so. I just forked it in because I knew I had to.

Putting food into my mouth, tasting it, allowing myself to enjoy it, feels like an act of self-care I’ve overlooked.

‘Thank you so much,’ I call out, turning back inside and poking my head beyond the hanging sheet and into the other side of the partition. Chef Jonny politely nods at me with a smile before continuing with his work, scrubbing at a pot in his hands so that it can be packed away with everything else he’s already organized. I duck out and let him get on with it. I know offering to help is seen as an unacceptable thing to do, so I resist the urge – unlike Vicky who almost had to be wrestled out of the tent a few moments ago after trying to do the washing up. You’d think she’d be happy to have a break from the endless chores she has to endure back home but she’s a doing person and hates just standing by and watching someone else get on with a task if she can help. She was the same when we lived together, so it’s really not something she’s picked up since becoming a mum. Switching off might be longed for when it all gets a bit much, but it’s not so easily achieved in practice.