The chess moves on the plaque at end of church proved to be a Fool's Mate; this rather indicated that chess might be a red queen - I mean herring. All clues seemed to point to King's Langley, but what would we do when we got there? A couple of hawkeyes on the team recognised Copped Hall, which is visible from the M25, so we decided to follow the picture trail if only to eliminate it. We picked up the trail at the Wake Arms in Epping Forest (now a steakhouse called "City Limits"). It was foggy as we parked at the lodge, and almost dark as we skirted the ruined Hall to scrabble in a leafy hollow like the beasts of the field...to reveal not the expected Christmas greeting "Kirkman woz 'ere" but the elusive ticket number 1.

John Kendrick

December 14, 10.45pm. Cold, dark and wet. I'm lying on the ground with my arm down a hole pulling out handfuls of wet leaves and mud. Then, two inches from my face, I notice it: "Keep looking" in black ink on the edge of the hole. Either Paul Coombs has abnormally long arms, or I'm digging in the wrong place. Treasure hunting would certainly be easier in daylight, but would it be as much fun? Filling in the hole and digging another makes me the proud owner of raffle ticket number two and, just as I get the tupperware box back in place, the heavens open. It's a mile through the rain and mud back to the car and I'll be lucky to get to bed before 1am. Has it all been worth it? Most definitely!

Greg Roach