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Harry Booth likes to describe his flat in Hoxton, north east of London’s city centre, as “my sanctuary in the city”.  A short walk from London’s canals, it’s a far cry from the Christchurch hills where he first caught the journalism bug chasing wildfires as a teenager. As I approach Booth’s flat, screams and laughter echo through the streets as children spill out of a nearby college. The neighbourhood is made up of brick council flats dating to the city’s post-war housing blitz, some of t...

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My Expat Life: In the AI hot zone: Harry Booth’s Big Tech beat at Time