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'You look like you're doing well for yourself, kid,' I said. 'What have you done, robbed a bank?'

'No, you soft sod,' he smiled. And started to tell us his story.

Luke told us how he'd just got back from Venezuela. Apparently it was a country in South America, just below Mexico and Jamaica. I'd never even heard of the place, to be honest. Venezuela? Was that near Vancouver? Like in Canada? We didn't have a clue.

Luke started going on about how he did business for a friend out there, and while he was there stayed in a five-star hotel, complete with a swimming pool surrounded by palm trees and fancy seafood restaurants.

'Have you ever been abroad, Jim?' he asked.

'Never been abroad in my life, mate,' I replied, trying to act cool. But inside, it stung, because my parents had never been able to take me abroad. We lived on an estate. Foreign travel was something other people did.

'You've got to do it, mate,' Luke enthused. 'I've just got back from another trip. I'm telling you, I've been living every lad's dream. Everything's cheap as fuck in Venezuela - even the girls, if you know what I mean! There's a party every night, loads of cheap booze, cheap fags, nights out cost bugger all, there's palm trees everywhere and as for the birds ... they make this lot in here look like the dogs they are. It's totally mega. Why bother going to Spain where everything's so pricey? Get your arses to Venezuela, mate. Everything's double beautiful, and double cheap. It's fookin' beautiful.'