We live on five floors. My own apartments occupy one floor; my study, the library and a reception room occupy another. Our kitchen and dining rooms are at the top. Breakfast is after prayer.

I have half a grapefruit with orange segments, followed by Special K and a slice of toast and marmalade. I've put on a bit of weight and my cholesterol level's a bit high, so I have to watch what I eat. I've switched from butter to margarine, and I should cut out the sugar in my coffee, but I have quite a sweet tooth. It's a problem, as this very nice parishioner gives me chocolates!

I'm usually at my desk by half-past eight. I find this is the best time to work. I can concentrate on my sermons, speeches, documents and the like.
Sister Damian comes in part-time to type up letters. Communication is so quick these days. E-mails are instant, and people expect instant replies. It doesn't allow one time to think and reflect.

The cathedral itself is a very prayerful space. I sometimes sit at the back or in one of its side chapels — the Blessed Sacrament chapel is a favourite of mine. When I greet people after Sunday mass at the cathedral, it's as if the whole world is visiting. What I find so often is that they're looking for meaning to their lives. When I look back over this year and see how entire communities, as well as individuals, have faced loss or unimaginable tragedy, I know many are also searching for hope. But as we have seen so many times, people's suffering gives us a glimpse of the transcendent dimension of the human being.

If I'm here, I have lunch with the sisters and Father Mark. It might be shepherd's pie, or something simple like a toasted cheese-and-tomato sandwich. Friday is a fast day, so maybe we'll just have home-made soup and rolls.

After lunch, I like to rest awhile or go for a walk. At my last diocese, Arundel and Brighton, I had a golden labrador to take for a walk. He was called Jason, after the Golden Fleece. I feel sorry for the new pope, because pets aren't allowed in the papal apartments and he had two cats before he was elected.

If I have a little free time, I listen to the radio. One of the nicest programmes is Desert Island Discs. I love hearing what makes people tick, things that interest them, and about their family background.

My family were originally from Ireland. My father, whose family were wine merchants for the clergy and gentry of southern Ireland, was the eldest of nine. He was one of three doctors who came to England and settled in Reading. I'm the youngest of five boys — I also have a younger sister, Catherine. The eldest, Jim, celebrated his 80th birthday this year, and at his party we all reminisced about our childhood. I remembered the day I told my father I wanted to be a priest — I knew it would be a sacrifice for my parents, because two of my brothers were already training for the priesthood. They agreed, but the rector of the English College in Rome took some persuading. He thought two Murphy-O'Connors in a seminary was quite enough, but he soon relented.

Evening prayer is at 6 o'clock. If I don't have an evening engagement, our meal is at 7.30. I have quite conservative tastes, but the sisters know I like pasta. When I was studying for the priesthood in Rome, I became very fond of Italian dishes. One of my favourites is pasta all'amatriciana. It's easy to do: tomatoes, peppers, a little bit of bacon, parmesan... I like a glass of burgundy — Ch‰teauneuf du Pape if it's a special occasion.

I often return to Rome for meetings with Vatican heads; of course this year we were locked up in the conclave of the Sistine Chapel to elect a new pope. At the moment I'm reading Milestones, the memoirs of Joseph Ratzinger, who is now Pope Benedict XVI. I'm also reading Chris Patten's Not Quite the Diplomat, and Charles Handy's Waiting for the Mountain to Move. Sometimes I watch the news or sport. I used to play rugby as a student in Rome and as a curate in Portsmouth, and I've been following the Lions. I have a piano here. I don't get to practise every day, but I like playing Beethoven, Chopin, Schumann and Shostakovich. A favourite hymn is Newman's "Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home — Lead Thou me on!"

The last thing I do before I go to sleep is say night prayer. You know, there's a lovely tradition in monasteries whereby the abbot sits in his chair at the end of the day and the monks come up one by one, and he kisses them on the top of the head. This is a sign of acceptance, forgiveness and love. In a way, night prayer is similar. There's a sense that the real abbot, God, accepts you, forgives you and loves you. That's a lovely feeling. "