Halfway through my cup of Assam, it struck me: if bridges were made of woven teabags, they’d hold together marvellously. Strong when damp, light when dry, and always at hand if one drank enough tea.

Imagine crossing the stream on a suspension of Earl Grey, chamomile and peppermint — each step releasing a polite aroma. The only trouble would be dunkers, but then again, every invention must risk something.