It’s always interesting to drive round the M25 and then the M4 with someone who is essentially German. I haven’t driven anywhere for some time, but I had to put my driving hat on as I sat in the passenger seat in order to make sure my uncle didn’t launch our car up the embankment.

I decided to use the original German ‘links’ (left) on order to spur my uncle on to the correct side of the road – especially important on the smaller roads. And for a German, he didn’t have too much fondness for indicating which direction he wished to go in, much to the annoyance of native drivers.

He pencilled in far less than the 7 hours it took us to reach the tranquil fields of Devonshire, where the narrow country lanes proved to be particularly heart-stopping. We stopped for several coffees on the way down, but it didn’t prevent my uncle from breaking into full German for ten minutes before he realised I couldn’t understand a word.

It was to be 3am by the time we arrived in a rain soaked Dartmoor, where a row of traditional pasties awaited the hungry traveller.