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Everything is hidden in plain sight.

When I was young we would go on day-trips to the seaside. Seagulls, candy floss, game machine parlours pumping out music, boat trips around the lighthouse, 99 Flakes—all surrounded by the threat of rain on the horizon.

And there on the sand, an enterprising operator had set up a treasure dig for children. A grid of squares marked out on the sand by lengths of string. You paid a fee, were given a small spade, and told which grid-position you could dig in. Hidden down under the surface of the sand would be a little buried wooden box; and when you dug and uncovered the box there would be a piece of rolled-up paper inside; and marked on the paper would be the name of the prize you had won.

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