I arranged to meet my niece at the top of her University of Newcastle hall of residence. To reach her, however, I had to climb up a huge tower of open IKEA kitchen drawers crammed full of utensils. The only way to do this without falling into the River Tyne was to take the hand of a local guide. Mine was an overweight, red-haired, 17 year-old boy.
At the top my guide asked for payment. I was without cash, so he compromised on a snog with a 49 year-old. When I returned later for the handbag that I had accidentally left behind, I saw that this boy had also helped himself to my credit cards.