Our plan amounted to a 362-mile spherical journey, from my place close to Cirencester, Gloucestershire, as calculated by the algorithmic wizards of Waze. When the entire thing may very well be plotted on a digital map in minutes as we speak, I started to marvel how my journalistic ancestor of 1933 would have calculated the identical route, and the way lengthy it could have taken, given no highways, no service areas, no Waze and the restricted capabilities of the vehicles of 1933 and earlier.

Which after all raised the query of which automotive to take. There was no steering from The Scribe, aside from his implied desire for the finer issues in life and his apparent consolation over lengthy distances. The advert on the web page instantly after his column – for the Rolls-Royce Phantom II 40/50hp – may need supplied a clue, however acquiring one was impractical at brief discover.

Ought to we take a contemporary or an previous automotive? The Scribe will surely have pushed a up to date machine, so we selected the identical. This eradicated a clean crusing choice from Bentley’s basic assortment (generously provided). Ought to I take one among my very own vehicles – Alpine A110, Dacia Duster or Ford Ranger Raptor? Neither appeared proper. In addition to, trendy absolutely means an electrical automotive today.

Contemplating The Scribe’s clear penchant for the finer issues, I ended up selecting a Mercedes-Benz EQS, the elegant all-electric S-Class that appeared utterly in character with the undertaking. It was a automotive I hadn’t pushed earlier than, and it could do the job in silence and luxury.

Mercedes was instantly useful: the automotive arrived at my place the day earlier than we began our lengthy day’s drive. My associate for the undertaking was John Bradshaw, our chief photographer and a person who I’d counsel is aware of this nation in addition to The Scribe did again then.

The plan was first to drive north to Shipton, a modest 26 miles away, or 45 minutes or so, then due west to The Paddocks, a matter of 59 miles and 90 minutes of driving time.

Permitting sufficient time for chat and pictures which as we speak are thought of as essential because the phrases that accompany them, this might see us enter an Exeter charging station in time for a late lunch and put us on The Osborne’s elegant doorstep – a journey of 137 miles/ 150 minutes – earlier than the not-too-abundant daylight wanted for our pictures ran out. That finished, we have been in a position to return to darkness with all the photographs we would have liked.