A little bit of history West Park Hospital One Saturday in June, about three or maybe even four years ago, I left home to meet my friend Lorna for lunch. She lived a little further south than me, in Surrey, and we'd agreed to meet in Epsom as it was equidistant between our homes. Anyway, I'm absolutely flipping rubbish at directions, and have little-to-no spatial awareness -- I literally can't remember my way home unless I've done the journey about fifty times. So, even though I'd been to Epsom on many occasions, I decided to dig out Mr Sat Nav, to make sure I didn't get lost. I think we'd arranged to meet in a car park, but anyway, I thought the High Street was a logical address to tap into my sat nav. So I set off, and said a small prayer to whoever's up there that the stupid machine wouldn't try to take me the wrong way up a one-way street like it has done before. I can't remember exactly when I noticed something had gone wrong. The problem with me, when I'm driving, is that I go off into some kind of hypnotic state and really don't absorb where I'm going or what I'm doing. It's all a bit autopilot-y. But anyway, at some point I turned off the main road and drove down a side road, as instructed, probably singing along incredibly loudly and badly to Britney, and missing the big signs warning me not to