After walking for days we were still not sure which dessert we were in. Was it the apricot tart, lemon curd or spiced apple pie we debated. The ground crunched beneath our feet, perhaps it was creme brûlée or even honeycomb crunch. Small pods of vanilla sprouted out of the icing sugar around us. We continued to roam, passing dunes of desiccated coconut and Turkish delight. Then on the horizon… an oasis of scrumptious green apple trees with trunks of polished oak growing beside a lake of golden syrup or perhaps manukahoney and cream. Was this a mirage or pure heaven?