In the Spring of 2005, Balti and Havana were put in contact with an aristocrat. He told us of his summers and the private party that he held, and expressed an interest in our documenting this quirky English piece of pie.

Summer arrived, and so did we – although to where we cannot say. There were people, laughter, lakes. Verdant vales and vapid vines. Immediately this was home. We had somehow lost sight of it - left as adulthood took hold – but now we were warm in its bosom.

A man offered us a tiny pill.

What happened next? We are not so sure. A lovelorn prince, four wandering women, talking toys and Elvis Presley.

Thankfully, we have our film as the bedrock of memory, and present it as our gift to you all.