I am thankfully feeling more human after Joel gives me some soluble aspirin and paracetamol. Finn and I get into a car that he has arranged to meet us out front.
"Take us to the man who makes the best bacon sandwich. Many thanks, Stuart," Finn says. The driver nods silently and he puts the car into gear. Still feeling a little off, I elect to shut my eyes for the duration of the journey.
Fifteen, short minutes later the car stops outside of a classical looking building.
"So, this man is a good family friend. I called him while you were getting dressed. He is expecting us," Finn informs me as he leads me through a plain door in the side of the building and down a corridor lined with various photographs. The decor is timeless and feels expensive.
We go through a few more doors and down a
