I was dragging my kids around pubs before they could walk and were able to run away. Something Andrew frequently did when I was trying to enjoy a beer in Cafe Belgique. Alexei was less mobile, probably on account of the La Chouffe he nicked from my glass. The roles are now a little reversed. Andrew never runs away from a pub. Like his Dad, he’s more likely to be running towards it. Especially if closing time is approaching. Alexei is more equivocal. Sometimes, but not always, because he was in a non-drinking situation. You’ll learn all about that, and how abusive my kids are to me, in the chapters which follow. As we wander around the West Coast of America, Japan and South Korea. The events were pretty much as portrayed. My memory isn’t what it was. It doesn’t improve after a few tumblers of cheap Japanese whisky.