I have always believed that some names convey power; most don’t. Despite their bloody legacies, think of the Bolshevik revolutionaries … Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin. The names sort of send shivers up your spine just reading them.

Historians are fond of imagining how different the 20th century would have played out if Hitler’s stepfather had not adopted him and given him his name. Try and visualize 700,000 brown-shirted storm troopers in unison, Heil Schicklegruber. Never happened.

With nothing but time on our hands my wife, my dog and myself spend a little of it giving our imaginations free reign. One such flight of fancy led me to the verge of acquiring a second passport. The story unfolds this way.