So what tends to make you pleased?

* I love dancing – bopping, as I phone it. As soon as I hear the opening bars of Layla, I Heard It By way of The Grapevine or Brown Sugar, I’m extremely satisfied and on my feet.

* Becoming in bed in the evening or first thing in the morning and hearing the rain outside. I like snuggling beneath the duvet as the rain drums gently on the windowpane.

* The scent of orange blossom you get in Mediterranean countries. It is such a heady smell. I love the Med – the food, the warmth, the straightforward living, the way of life – and this conjures it up quickly. Smells are always very evocative, and when the blossom is out, it heralds a freshness, a time of wonderful guarantee before the complete-on heat of the summertime.

* The sound of a champagne cork. It’s my favourite drink, and the default aperitif when 1 goes out – I’m not complaining! In the olden days, you would be presented a sherry or a gin and tonic. There is some thing heady about the champagne ritual, from the pop of the cork to the feel of the flute in your hand, the condensation that types in the glass, seeing the bubbles rise… If they open a bottle of champagne over my grave, I’ll resurrect.

* Acquiring a good result in the lab. As a scientist, so many thing conspire against you. The globe has a knack of contaminating your experiments – a spillage, one thing breaks… – so to get a outcome that complies with your hypothesis is this kind of a thrill, 1 of the most thrilling things. Suddently the overdraft doesn’t matter.

Richard Madeley, broadcaster

* Getting up. If I lie awake in bed for as well extended in the morning, unfavorable thoughts accumulate – so it is up and into the shower. The blues vanish. Fundamental hydrotherapy, I suppose.

* A bike ride all around the Hampstead Heath Extension, the place we reside. Ersatz countryside in the suburbs.

* A Spam sandwich produced with crusty white bread and lettuce. Naff, but often cheering.

* The two-mile hike over the cliff path to the beautiful fishing village of Polperro, close to our Cornish residence. The seascape is an ever-modifying canvas tremendously uplifting.

* Something by Charles Dickens. Such a assured author. He wrote A Christmas Carol in one draft. His only modifications had been deletions did not add a word or a comma. Wonderful.

Prof Robert Winston, IVF pioneer

* Listening to the ‘Adagio’ from Schubert’s String Quartet in C Main, performed by the Emerson Quartet and Rostropovich. Such fragile violin-playing, which is simultaneously so robust. This is music for floating to, for not speaking, for utter tranquility, and for intercourse. Time itself stands even now, seemingly suspended, as the cello marks out its punctuation.

* Skiing off the Parsenn in the Alps, in brilliant sunshine, with not a soul in sight. From the icy-cold top of the Weissfluhjoch to the warmer remote village of Kublis is a leisurely 10 miles, and a descent of more than 2,000 metres. As there is no chance of collision, I make the descent with Bach on my earphones.

* Flying above sparsely populated components of East Africa in a light aircraft, with the fired up anticipation of seeing extraordinary wildlife when one last but not least lands on a deserted grass airstrip.

* Taking part in with model steam trains chuffing along in the backyard with Isaac, my 3 year previous grandson, a tiny scientist who jumps up and down with sheer joy when there is a sudden major derailment and the water spurts all over the place.

* Standing in front of Jan van Eyck’s Arnolfini Wedding in the National Gallery. I really like its rich, glowing colors and the interest to detail: the minor puppy, the clogs, the chandelier. There is mystery, also: the curious, imponderable Putin-like expression on Giovanni’s encounter and his raised hand, fingers extended, the nearly keeping away from glance of his betrothed. And the enigmatic figure in the mirror – who is viewing what?

Lady Antonia Fraser, historian

* Going for a swim – indoors at Body Performs West in London at Chewton Glen hotel in the country, the place the pool is in a glass cathedral or in the sea, any time, any location.

* Chatting to my cat. Placido has a great deal to tell me of a complaining cattish nature: contrary to what I’ve constantly thought, he tells me I’m lucky not to be a cat. In short, I’m fortunate to be human.

* Counting my grandchildren by their birthdays from the start of the yr.

* Counting my grandchildren again (I have 19). This time, carrying out their birthdays backwards from the finish of the 12 months. This is assured to send me to sleep – and is far better than any pill.

* Going to a concert at the Wigmore Hall. Perhaps the superb Florian Boesch will be singing Schubert. Maybe the equally superb Paul Lewis will be enjoying Schubert. Maybe the most great Mitsuko Uchida will be playing anything.

Wendy Cope, poet

* My breakfast. I constantly wake up hungry and I constantly get pleasure from breakfast: porridge and juice (cranberry and orange mixed). Then I move to an armchair with a very large mug of great coffee and have a search at 1 of the newspapers.

* Watching the backyard grow. After breakfast I go out and see how the plants are acquiring on, specially the roses. We have a tiny courtyard garden, which gives me excellent pleasure and not also much perform.

* Walking by the riverside in Ely. We moved here just in excess of a year ago, to a residence not far from the river. I adore going down there and hunting at the boats, the birds and the folks. You really do not have to walk far before you are in open nation with views of the Fens. I’ve usually felt drawn to flat landscapes and I am really satisfied to be residing in one particular.

* Champagne. The sight of it at a celebration usually gladdens my heart. If I could afford to drink it all the time, I may well not appreciate it so considerably.

* Listening to the music of J.S. Bach. Considerably of it helps make me want to dance.

Jeremy Vine, broadcaster

* The opening guitar chords of ‘God Save The Queen’ by the Sex Pistols.

* When you find anything ahead of you know you’ve lost it.

* The street cleaner in Chiswick who dances as he sweeps.

* My daughters being variety to every single other.

* Fish and chips in Sidmouth, then strolling along the seafront becoming lashed by rain.

Fay Weldon, novelist

* REM’s ‘It’s the Finish of the Planet as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)’, a song that assisted me by means of hard emotional instances in the late 1980s. Every time I hear it, I keep in mind just how unhappy I am not these days, and rejoice.

* Viewing my sons tending their modest young children and realising I did not do also badly right after all: we survived, we multiplied.

* The small orderliness of domestic items: a tidy cutlery drawer, towels colour-coded and stacked in accordance to size, fresh sheets, plumped pillows, scrubbed table. Of these trivia is contentment created.

* Writing ‘The End’ when a extended piece of perform is at last completed, and I click ‘send’.

* Lunching with buddies in eating places, the sheer exhilaration of exchanging tips, discussing possibilities. Fish and chips will do, but posh and wholesome is ideal. Conserve up, live for ever.

Gyles Brandreth, novelist and raconteur

What can make me satisfied – immediately? A Bendicks bitter mint (it is the sugar rush) a bitter lemon at the end of the working day (I really don’t drink alcohol: it’s the ritual that does it) English honey on lightly burnt sizzling-buttered toast (comfort food) winning a round on Just A Minute (it’s the adrenalin rush) a surprise kiss on the nose from my granddaughter (it reaches the parts other kisses are not able to attain) the second in the theatre when the lights go down (I truly feel secure in the dark) the last 20 minutes of any Shakespeare perform (he never fails) an unexpected shaft of sunshine on my back as I stroll down the street but most of all, writing out a list of everything I have got to do. When it is all there, on the notepad, in black and white, I am back in control, no longer overwhelmed, and out of the blue, briefly, entirely pleased.

* A version of this article very first appeared in 2012

So what tends to make you pleased?