Although we had supposedly travelled south for dozens of miles, the architecture of the towns through which we passed over the course of the whole journey was very similar to that of our starting point in Yorkshire. Even the countryside in the grey mist looked the same. We must have passed through Richmond dressed up in various guises at least five times.
When we reached our hotel I explained to the others that I knew that we had been tricked. We were not on our way to Bristol, but stuck inside a sophisticated theme park near the village of Royston Vasey.
Before we sat down to dinner I ordered a cup of tea and a teacake. I had to double check that my request for a teacake had not been misheard as ‘cheesecake’.