I had a very kind invitation to play golf in Antrobus last week. I was really looking forward to it. Having never actually been there it promised to be an interesting day.

So it was with great expectation I tapped the postcode into my Sat Nav, turned up the music on my car stereo and let the world go gently by.

All was well from Macclesfield to Knutsford but somewhere around the Cheshire Show ground my Sat Nav went into spasm. No problem I’m a seasoned traveller and can find my way to most places by following the signs.

Except…there wasn’t any. I swear I never saw a single sign to Antrobus anywhere. By now my Sat Nav had gone into melt down and had me in some kind of vortex.

According to the little arrow that indicated my position I was in a Cheshire version of the Bermuda Triangle. I began to mentally write notes to my loved ones in the hope they’d be found after my disappearance.

I contemplated ripping up my shirt and setting it ablaze so I could be seen more easily by spotter planes when my Sat Nav blinked back to life telling me to take the road to Northwich. (To be honest I was desperate enough to take a road to anywhere.)

A few miles later I spotted a farmer in a field and stopped to ask him the way to Antrobus Golf Club. His spooky instructions involved turning right at a field of black and white cows and going left at ‘The Big Tree’.

God knows how but I made it and the welcome I received from the golf club staff was amazing.

You don’t suppose I was the first visitor they’d ever seen do you?