We are at a corner table in a breakfast place in Chelsea, Joseph Fiennes opposite me on the banquette with his jack russell, Noa. “Dog duty,” he says, apologetic. Noa looks at me, brown eyes also apologetic. They’ve been in Hyde Park, he says, he lost track, didn’t have time to take her home. Nature is where he’s at his best, where he feels cleansed, connected, observant – his sentences are decorative like this. “It’s when I’m at my happiest, on hours-long, rain-drenched walks. Hot cheeks, freezing hands.” In an ideal world he’d be trekking or wild swimming in the
Our editorial team includes several staff writers, each contributing their specialized knowledge to enhance the depth and breadth of our event and story coverage.