The caravan was extremely small considering at least two of The Monkees had joined us for a holiday. To escape the cramped quarters, I went on a tiny train deep into the hillside for an “authentic taste of 19th century coalmining”. When I returned one of The Monkees was ‘helpfully’ cooking dinner. He was trying to cook two red chickens under the grill. “Food poisoning on a platter”, I said to myself and made a mental note to eat only pasta for the rest of the week.