One day, during this trip, I was invited to play golf at my old club, Kingston Heath. I was terribly excited about the idea having been a member there 50 years or so earlier.

Sadly it turned out to be a disaster. Not only was the temperature almost 40°C but after nine holes I was in such agony, from the pain in my groin that I could not move without severe pain. I spent the next hour sitting in one of the many wooden shelters on the course before I could comfortably move back to the clubhouse. Whatever the doctors say, hernia or not, there is something seriously wrong.

Apart from Michael being astonished at the violence on the fasciculations in my thighs there were no other medical ramification during this visit.