Salt cave.

Before I flew out I booked trial sessions for friend Sara and myself, at the Salt Cave in Duke Street. An hour lounging in a salt-infused room listening to quiet natural-sounds music (including the equally natural one of each of us in turn waking ourselves with a sudden loud snore, and the giggling which ensued). I found it very relaxing, and my sore eyes, which have been irritating all week, miraculously healed. At the graduation ceremony on Tuesday, an usher mistook my weepy appearance for high emotion at the occasion, and patted my shoulder sympathetically - I didn't like to disillusion her. The only time I feel emotional at such a time is when I first catch sight of one of my offspring kitted out in robes and mortar-board, looking about ten feet tall suddenly. Sara, who suffers badly with asthma, was so stunned at being suddenly able to breathe freely that she intends to book a series of further sessions (not cheap) for more lasting results. It seems the NHS (or soon-to-be Trump health service?) endorses the use of Salt Therapy (halotherapy) for the relief of respiratory and skin ailments, although of course it's not available on prescription.
Afterwards braved the Siberian cold and walked to FACT for lunch, where I had the exact same lunch as yesterday, at the same table (the only one free). This mildly messed with my head in a Groundhog Day kind of way. I insisted Sara try the golden milk (see extra) instead of her usual latte, and although initially dubious she was soon addicted and we both had two cups. The ingredients are almond milk, turmeric, coconut oil, agave syrup and black pepper, although I'm not sure of the proportions. It's said to have antioxidant, anti-inflammatory and immune-boosting properties.