The September sun casts its gentle rays onto the market place. It’s that peaceful time of the year when the children have gone back to school and the streets have emptied out a little. I start my quiet Wednesday morning with a meander down the market. Along the way I stop to look at some fabrics to make some new cushion covers and try on a few hats. I like the stall selling old-fashioned nighties and stop to buy a pink cotton one for my mother. Further along are some silver necklaces and earrings in pretty bold designs finished with amber and turquoise pendants.

I stop at Gail’s for a light brunch, part of a chain of artisan bakeries that first opened in Hampstead High Street back in 2005. I’ve only been here once or twice. As soon as I step in the concoction of sweet and savoury bakes smells amazing. A variety of international breads fill the window from freshly baked Russian rye to San Francisco sourdough. The cinnamon swirls have a thick spherical shape and are dusted with plenty of cinnamon, sugar and nutmeg. They are crusty on the edges but look wonderfully soft inside.

The walls are decorated in salmon pink with light wood panelling. The wooden floor and marble top tables create a spacious feel. The bar is painted a teal blue and the contemporary lighting compliments the cosy space. I sit at the wooden bench overlooking the street as I bite into a mini poppy seed sourdough roll filled with smoked salmon and avocado yoghurt, the subtle flavours blend perfectly.

I savour the house blend coffee, sipping it slowly and stare into space watching passers by. The busy summer holidays are over and my teenager has begun her new adventure into the sixth form. I enjoy having the calm morning to myself, empty my mind, and easing into a new routine.

The counter is packed with amazing delicacies, cookies and brioches. The chocolate banana and walnut muffins have risen perfectly. Unusually flavoured jams such as Earl Grey and lemon marmalade and organic raspberry and rose preserve are piled high in neat pyramids along the back wall. I order a flourless berry and polenta mini cake for dessert and look forward to coming back to try a few more treats.

I sit back and watch people going to and fro. There is no doubt this small city has a certain charm and innate beauty about it. St Albans doesn’t have that randomness and urban speed of London and the air is cleaner. I feel lucky to live here for the fact that we are so steeped in history and so close to London. Of all the places an arrogant Londoner barely in her thirties could have landed all those years ago to make a new life, I certainly chose well.