I've seen some crazy things in Bolton as I've walked through the town centre on my way to and from M&S at dinner time.

There was the time I saw three pensioners having a fist fight on a zebra crossing. That was bonkers.

Today a woman on a motorbike pulled up as I walked past the magistrates' court in Le Mans Crescent and burst into tears. Sobbing. Loudly.

You can't leave a lady crying can you, so I tottered up and asked her if she was all right.

'I'm lost,' she sobbed. 'I keep going round and round and round and I need to find Wigan and Leigh Schoo-ell but I can't find it and it's in Atherton and I'm lost and now I've lost my friend..' Tears are pouring down her little face which is all squished by the helmet and that, combined with her make-up and the face you pull when you cry, is making her look very odd.

'Oh dear,' I say. 'I'm not from Bolton, I don't know where you need to go. Would you like a tissue?'

She sniffs and says no thank you and she'll be all right. I do think she should take a tissue but she's adamant. Just then another motorbike rounds the crescent and pulls up on the other side of the road.

'Is that your friend?' I say. She sniffs and nods. 'You'll be all right,' I say and give her arm a little squeeze.

I hope she found it and isn't still circling the town centre, stopping to sob and fill up with petrol. Bolton does have a crazy road system.