It's always 5 o'clock somewhere

Notes on becoming a (very early) morning person…

My sleep patterns changed when I started teaching early morning English classes in Barcelona in the 1990s.

When I was at school my mum and sisters would have to drag my duvet off and even through water in my face to get me up. When I was first in Spain, I’d think nothing of dozing until midday.

I carried on getting up early when I moved back to the UK because I like to exercise before work – I’ve been a morning person for best part of 30 years now.

One of things my partner D and I liked about each other when we first met was that we are both early risers.

Our waking time these days is 5am. It used to be later but, for reasons neither of us can work out, it has gone back an hour.

We sleep with a radio on quietly through the night. D likes Radio 4 Extra, I prefer Radio 4/World Service. When one of us wakes up in the night – which we both do at various points – we will switch the radio over to our preferred station.

We are usually both awake by the time the World Services switches back to Radio 4 (5.20am), and so begin the day with the Shipping Forecast. The Shipping Forecast always used to be a quietly reassuring presence (assuming you don’t work or live on a boat). It was always read by someone (usually male) with an even tone and cut-glass RP. Today it is read by a revolving cast of newsreaders. One woman regularly underestimates how long it is going to take her to read the forecast, particularly if there are lots of storm warnings, and so consequently ends up sounding like Pinky or Perky as she rushes to reach the end.

I’d quite like a dog called Cromarty (though Dogger would also be fun)

I usually get up and make myself a strong hob-tob cafetiere coffee and a strong cup of tea for D and let the dog out. I take the drinks back to bed where we both start the day by opening our laptops.

The good and the bad about waking up so early…

You get the chance to crack on with email, social media and work stuff ahead of other people. I’ve often commissioned a feature, replied to emails across various time zones and written something for myself by 7am.

It can also make days feel incredibly long. I am usually asleep on the sofa by 9pm.

Gratuitous David Beckham sleeping pic. Many years ago a friend caused much amusement when she asked, “Steven, has anyone ever told you you really look like Becks?”

The volume of one or other of our laptops is always turned right up, the other is always about to run out of power.

Steve, an oikish neighbour from round the corner, lets his dogs out around 5.30am, shouting at them or talking loudly on his phone with no notion that other people might still be asleep. He never picks up his dogs poo.

A very early morning shot, in which, I have one of the top three hangovers of my life having got so drunk in a posh hotel (on a press trip) I had to be helped into the lift by some waiters. A Daily Mail journalist went missing after the same dinner!

You rarely hear milk floats anymore. When I was 16 I discovered nightclubs and drugs. My drug of choice then was speed, which kept you up all night, dancing or talking shite with likeminded friends/people you’d just met. From the ages of 16 to 24 I spent most of my weekends off my face on anything and everything I could get my hands on, and doing anything but sleeping. If I were back at my parents’ house, too high (as they say today) to get to sleep, 5am was a key moment: my dad’s alarm would go off and around the same time the milkman would pass the house in his electric float. Being awake for either of these meant I wasn’t going to sleep (if I’d even been trying) so would take something to keep/get me going for the day. 

For readers of a certain age. Remember the milkshake powder-filled straws?

Birds are inconsistent visitors. Sometimes we hear nothing but angry-sounding seagulls. On other days it’s the chirping of smaller birds. Foxes and badgers play on the grass outside at night sometimes. The foxes leave shit that Beckett likes to eat if he spots it first. The badgers dig up the grass.

I’m keenly aware that my wake-up time isn’t standard: when I sleepover with friends I realise that 5am-8am (when most people crank into gear) is a long time, though an hour of Twitter/Instagram/Facebook/Wordle/Metrodle (Google it – if you’re a Londoner you’ll love it) goes much more quickly than an hour of work.

I wonder how people actually sleep beyond 6am.

Please fill me in. In the meantime, here are some 5am thoughts from Lily Allen (whose Miss Me podcast with Maquita Oliver is great).