This summer, I have been to five “sports days” run by friends in their thirties. We’ve had all the races – egg and spoon, three-legged, sack and relay. I have, however, been to just one wedding. This is faintly ludicrous. I am 32. My generation is supposed to be settling down. Sports days are for little school children.

But this is just one example of how people my age are acting like kids because we’re unable to grow up. The prohibitive cost of buying a home and starting a family means we are forced to rebel against the milestones we’d otherwise be hitting at this age, and find alternative fulfilment.

Take Camp Wildfire – the “Summer Camp for Adults” in Kent which puts on activities like tree climbing and hide and seek, and has grown from 350 attendees to 4,000 over the course of a decade. I’ve been a couple of times in recent years. We were sorted into houses called things like Badgers and Foxes and shot Nerf guns at each other and built rafts. I loved it because it gave me a rare chance to drop the self-consciousness I clutch as an adult, and just play like I did as a kid. It feels freeing to stop caring what other people think.

Then last weekend, I went to “Water Wipeout” on the outskirts of London. Me and my 30-something friends all attempted to scale this inflatable obstacle course on a man-made lake but ended up falling over and sliding unceremoniously into the water. It was great.And every time we meet up for a special occasion like New Year or a big birthday, my group of friends put on a “Beer Olympics”........

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