When I mentioned that I was a toddler fan of Herman and the Hermits, the American drag queen with the shock of orange hair could barely contain his/her excitement. “I wanted to marry Peter Noone when I was three” I confessed.

“Do you have a business card?” s/he enquired, peering into our car. I thought not, but TPR rummaged around in the side pocket of the driver’s seat, pulled out a metal pencil case, and produced one.”We can have a chat later”, I promised.

We reconvened in my hotel suite towards the end of the conference. Both of us had decided to stay on for the weekend and were packing our bags to move into smaller (and cheaper) rooms for the next couple of days.

“So here’s a picture of us all at the height of our fame in the 1960s” said the drag queen. S/he produced the front cover of a magazine that showed Herman surrounded by four women with bouffant hairstyles all kitted out in identical red mini-dresses. “That one is me” s/he announced proudly, pointing to the prettiest girl.

This came as a complete shock to me. Who would have guessed that the hermits were female and American? And how mean and stupid was I to think that this poor lady was just a man in a frock?