I had a dream a few nights ago. I dreamt that I was walking through a square in Mayfair and suddenly remembered that I had left a Honda test car at that very location at some indeterminate point of time in the last few weeks.

I even knew where to look, but the parking space was empty (it was a dream, after all). I woke up in a state of mild panic. I must do something about it, I thought, Honda will be upset. I had better call them. I reached for my mobile phone. It was not there.

As reality kicked in, I remembered that when I got back home from China after the most recent grand prix, I did not have my mobile phone with me, which is another story entirely but one also related to the fug of confusion prompted by F1-induced jet lag.

I stopped to think about it and realised that, as I live in Paris – and have done for more than 10 years – it was rather unlikely that I had ever had a Honda test car in Mayfair. Added to which I had not been in London since February, which seems a very long time ago now.

The reason I relate this bizarre tale is to give you an insight into the state of mind of the average Formula 1 reporter at the moment. We are all over the place, literally and metaphorically.