I’d like to see all my friends. I would have my breakfast and then I would go to Ireland and see my friends – Frank McGuinness, Penny and Desmond Guinness…all those people. I would have lunch in the castle with Penny and Desmond and maybe some other people, then in the afternoon I would go to New York and do the same thing.

I would obviously be in a good place chemically, the synapses would be content. I would play with my kids. I don’t think I would have time to watch anything by Ingmar Bergman. Bergman would suddenly feel like not that good a director if I only had a few hours.

I’d look for the mad amusement park on the base of Mount Fuji and take a few rides in there, and then whisk myself off very, very, very quickly on a jet cos it’s gonna be a long day. I’m thinking of getting stuck up in the Himalayas, but then that just gives me another mountain and you’re gonna think I’m a bit of a mountain freak. Where would I go? Not the pyramids! I’d like to get a plane from Japan to Petra in Syria, which is a little city that’s in the desert; it’s quite famous, it’s all made out of sand, like carved out of the desert. While I’m flying I’d like to catch up on the last few books of Philip K. Dick, then I’d come to my flat in London for lunch, say my goodbyes to my dear friends and family, pick up my two children and leave. I’d steal a tank and drive it up to Heathrow. I wouldn’t mind giving my girlfriend one in the middle of Parliament Square whilst shouting out, ‘It’s in the name of art!’ Then I’d nick a Concorde and fly to Arizona whilst having a wet shave and a top massage.

I’d have all my friends there, of course, with a whole load of guitars and drums and just making as much noise and causing as much trouble as we can. Lots of people sitting around, playing guitar, bottles of wine; lots of fun to be had.