How are your Sunday mornings? Right now I’m in Edinburgh – my Sundays start in a hotel room, alone. Midweek, I’m up at 5.30am to make it on set. The first thing I do is text my wife Amanda in New Zealand with a message for my son. If I’m lucky with the time difference I can read him a bedtime story. Do you work? I love to write. On Sundays it’s a joy. It’s a gift that nobody else is working. It’s the day I have to really write – the best bit of the job – when most of my time is spent doing admin and emails. We’ve got three TV shows on the go, there’s a lot to do, but right now on Sundays I’m left to make things up, uninterrupted. What are Sundays like at home? In New Zealand it’s a family day, taking my son down to the beach, getting my head out of my phone and computer. It’s strange, I think of Woodstock, New York, as my actual home. Because of Covid I have not been there since 2019. I miss walking aimlessly up the nearby hills. Sundays growing up? Relatives would cook something the size of a Christmas meal. I’d be left in somnolent pain from overeating on the sofa. I loved that I could spend the day reading books Sunday night? Pre-Covid, Amanda and I would try to sneak out for a date. Going out to a restaurant? I remember it fondly. If you could be anywhere next Sunday? At my house on the Isle of Skye; it’s the place that makes me happiest. It’s strange to be working in Edinburgh, yet I’m unable to get there. Hiking boots on, I’ll walk to a 500-year old ruined castle. In summer the sun sets at 11pm. After dusk it’s almost immediately dawn. By 2am you hear the cuckoos. It’s magical. Michael Segalov