On Friday, my wonderful wife and I are venturing forth to the Lake District. Sounds delightful doesn’t it? Well, yes it is, we’re looking forward to it very much. It’s a birthday treat for Becky’s partner (I won’t reveal his age, it’s a sensitive subject) and there are quite a few of us going. Should be a great occasion.

Except…

Except, that we don’t have a clue as to where the damn place is.

Oh, we have an address and a postcode, but the problem is that, for the first time I can remember, Google Maps has drawn a complete blank. All it will give me is some vague geographical location to the west of Keswick. A sort of blind guide. An “It’s over there in that direction” kind of thing.

Not to worry, though, for the owner of the fabulous AirB&B we’re all staying in has sent some directions for us to follow. So that’s all right then isn’t it?

Well no, not exactly.

I can’t remember the exact directions we’ve been given off the top of my head but they go something like this…

Go through Keswick and turn left at the gate with three crows perched on top of it. If there are more than three crows turn right. Then proceed in a slightly South/Westerly direction until you come to an oak tree with Jezza Loves Susie carved on the trunk. Turn right at the tree and drive past a field full of sheep or possibly Friesian cows, maybe both, until you come to a cattle grid made from toffee and drive carefully over it. Then, using a compass (or the stars if it’s dark) to find true North, go straight ahead until you see the Aurora Borealis in the distance and head towards it. If you come to a sign that says Atlantis 32 Miles, you’ve gone too far and need to do a U-turn at the next available place which is 5 kilometres west to the perpendicular of the shortest side of an isosceles triangle, having first worked out what x – (y + 9) =. If your algebra is poor (and let’s face it for most of us it is) simply retrace your steps until you get back to the cattle grid. When you get back to the cattle grid stop and get your thermos flask out and have a coffee and one of those egg sandwiches you packed which are by now starting to whiff a bit sulphurously and maybe swallow a valium or two as well. At this point, if your phone is capable of receiving a signal, call the AA, RAC, Green Flag or whichever rescue service you belong to and beseech them to come and find you and deliver you safely to Newlands House. If you can’t get a signal then I’m afraid you’re doomed my friend. Doomed forever. Dooooooommmmmeeeeeeddddd!!!

I mean, it wasn’t exactly like that but it was pretty close.

I keep having nightmares and wake up in a cold sweat with vivid images in my mind of Ange and I spending the entire weekend in a state of dishevelment, driving up hill and down dale in third gear with tears in our eyes and hunger in our bellies as we console each other with the hope that “It’ll be just over the next mountain, you’ll see.”

Who knows, maybe we’ll stumble across a shepherd and his flock of hardy Lakeland sheep and beg him to take us there and he’ll reply with, ‘Youm townies are allus comin’ round ere and gittin lost. Why don’t youm bugger off back where youm came from.” At which point we’ll vow that if God should deliver us from this hellish expedition then we will never set foot in this vast and inhospitable wilderness ever again.

Finally out of desperation, we’ll follow the setting Sun and drive until we reach the sea whereupon we’ll follow the coast Northwards until we arrive at the nearest ferry port which will probably be Glasgow or somewhere and then catch the first available boat back to civilisation.

Following a lengthy sea voyage, we’ll get home about three weeks after we left and people we know will ask us if we had a nice time which will cause us to sob and gibber and shake and rock back and forth in our seats whilst someone makes us a nice hot cup of sweet tea and rings for an ambulance.

That’s what keeps playing out in my mind.

Of course, I’m exaggerating. We’ll be ok and find the place first time and it won’t really be as bad as I’ve made out.

Will it?

WILL IT???