Around us, the revellers were jumping up and down like out-of-sync pistons with the implosion of the rhythmic beat. We saw the same white underwear flipping to and fro as the gyroscope spun above our heads. The thick slick haired Hoberman–sphere-holding-guy was near us expanding a universe between his fingers while a friend stared as if he was seeing the big bang and big crush at once. Michelle was grinding with Charlotte in a dancing twosome. In a flash we had scanned the whole place and in a heartbeat we had established the fact that it was still Saturday the 11th of June 2005.