Just what I needed first thing on a Monday morning — to have to go to the dentist! I guess it was better than getting a toothache halfway through my holiday, which was bound to happen if I hadn’t gone. Discoverered again that local anaesthetic and motorbikes don’t mix, riding to work afterwards was a hassle with my balance not feeling quite right.

One of the worst parts of going to the dentist always seems to be the inane conversation or questions that you have to listen to while your mouth is wedged open and you can’t answer. Maybe it’s meant to take your mind off the fact that someone is rummaging around inside your head with assorted pieces of metal.