Travelling around south America in a decrepit school bus was not my idea of a holiday. In fact I had no memory of how this had happened or how I got here. Everywhere we went puppies and kittens sat in the middle of the road and I had to keep getting off the bus to flag down traffic to avoid incidents.

Then off we went to Canada. The journey was – again – a mystery but now here I was staying in a squat with my friend JB. On the second day, we were setting off on a trip organised by her. I quickly ran back into the house to use the loo. When I returned, there was no sign of my friend. When I rang her she said, “Oh, we’re on the tram to Falconwood”. Angered, I walked back to the house but couldn’t find it. So I went to a café and bought a salad to take to the park. When I opened the salad it was mouldy but when I went to return it I couldn’t find the café. And now I’d forgotten where we were staying.

The only good thing about this holiday, I thought, was that we’d not gone to the United States.