ONE of Citizen Smith's friends crossed the border into Penrith the other week.

A pleasant 40-minute drive up the motorway took him to an antique shop where, suitably enthused, he decided to buy a chest of drawers.

All very straightforward, I'm told, until the woman asked for his address.

'Lancaster?' she asked, surprised, 'so you've come all the way from Yorkshire then.'

Once the steam had stopped coming out of his ears, he calmly corrected her, suggesting that the similarity to 'Lancashire' might have been a bit of a giveaway.

We can excuse our Cumbrian friend, who, we can assume, wasn't the sharpest knife in the box but it's true that a great many of our fellow countrymen have heard of Lancaster but haven't a clue where it is. Preston is the county business centre, Blackpool the tourist mecca, even grimy old Blackburn has won recognition with the success of its football team, yet Lancaster is Lancashire's wallflower in the profile stakes.

Most people's fleeting experience of the city is seeing an intriguing white building on the horizon as they speed past on the M6.

To natives and those suffering the witch's curse we're an undiscovered gem and many would like to keep it that way.

Do we really want camera wielding visitors with a wide-eyed fascination for all things remotely historic standing taking photos of the place where Bonny Prince Charlie once emptied his sporran?

Its a living, breathing city and do we really want to trip over a pair of Hungarian backpackers as we head for the bar?

Then again - cashing all those travellers cheques would be nice.

First of all though, it would be a step in the right direction if English people could at least find us on the map!