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I have been reminded of a tale told to me by a now distinguished motoring journalist concerning psilocybin fungi, perhaps better known as magic mushrooms. As a teenager in the hedonistic 1970s it seems he bunged a dozen or so of the little blighters in a potful of PG Tips which he imbibed just before setting off home from University at the end of Michaelmas term. All went well to start with but he was rather alarmed after an hour or so when his car turned into a flying saucer. Somewhat frightened, he coasted into a convenient lay-by to consider his next move. "It was all rather disturbing," the scribe recounted to me twenty years later, "But then I realised the controls were exactly the same as my Fiat so I pulled myself together and continued my journey."
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