On another occasion, I had just started climbing the metal stairs to get to my studio, when there was a great rush as hundreds of starlings took off all at once from the terrace above me. Startling though this was, it was only a prelude to what I saw when I got to the top of the steps. The entire roof terrace was covered in little pieces of what I took for flamingo coloured foam, shot through with red and brown flecks. Perplexed, I kicked a couple of pieces tentatively with the toe of my shoe. They moved soggily. Then I began to register the excited clicks and whistles of more starlings coming from next door. Creeping towards the parapet to avoid frightening them I peered over the ledge into the yard belonging to the Indian restaurant. My eyes were greeted by the spectacle of a multitude of flapping wings engaged in a wild frenzy to get the best pickings out of the uncovered bins below. On spotting me, and all at once, every single bird flew into the air, simultaneously crapping and dropping tasty orange morsels in wild unison, further covering the roof and myself in tandoori chicken.

Later on that day I had words with the restaurant owners.