Not a vast wood near where my friend Ralf lives in Finland, a small wood. A small suburban wood in Leeds.

This is disconcerting for someone with a perfect sense of direction. I blame my new hat, there I was thinking this wood is going on a bit, when it will end? these roots and rocks are a pain, is this actually a path anymore? but no worries, I look fantastic in this hat, what an amazing cap! All my usual navigational receptors distorted by my headgear.

Eventually I escaped the wood, shot off on tarmac and saw a plane. I am one of those people who always have to look at a plane, what kind it is, which airline, what it’s doing. This plane was putting its wheels down, I thought, He is going to turn now, he is going to turn now, he is too low to turn now, he is going to crash.

That was when I realised that the pilot was probably relying on instruments rather than his sense of direction and that somewhere in the wood I’d turned 360 degrees and now I was speeding back in the direction I had come, rather than towards the airport.

Last week I cycled round Jersey. Coasts are easier than woods. Pilots don’t fly wearing their caps.