I arrive in Bath (eventually) at 3am. Things are looking up because even at this hour I can see it’s the world’s prettiest town (besides Konstanz of course). Have been travelling for a grand total of 19 hours (could have been back in Sydney by now!).

In the meantime, while my estimated arrival time kept getting put back from 8pm to 11pm to midnight to 1:30am to finally 3, my long-suffering sidekick Kylie has been whiling away the time waiting for me by downing vodka red bull after vodka red bull in her friend Nick’s bar in an attempt to show those Brits that colonials do it better. I find her with her head already in the loo: a fitting end to an altogether shocking day.

Next morning, we buck up and make for Stonehenge nearby. Verdict: aliens, without a doubt. More fascinating, though, are the long hours we spend marvelling at the English capacity to enthuse about absolutely everything - a waiter in the Italian restaurant Nick’s parents kindly treated us to was positively doing a jig as he told us ‘You can get garlic bread, or you can get garlic bread with CHEESE on it, which is QUITE EXCITING’…