I love coming home after running or something on a Sunday, when i've set the oven up to cook me a roast. I get back, and the smell hits me as soon as the lift doors open.

The roast is already cooking (timer on the oven - like Swiss clockwork). The entire corridor has that roast smell. Chicken, lamb, beef, it doesn't matter. One quick shower later, it's time to dish up and nosh out. Eat the roast, watch the Sunday footy on Sky, and doze until bedtime. With any luck, it's raining, so i feel no guilt in staying in.

It's a typical English Sunday afternoon, but after living in Aussie, for me it's a little piece of heaven