DONKEYS' years ago I visited a stately home in another part of the country with my wife and extremely young daughter. We joined a tour where the guide would point at the fine paintings on the walls.

"This," she would say, "is an example of Loadofguffio's 18th century landscapes, reminiscent of the early Gainsborough."

And my daughter would interrupt and, helpfully, say: "No. They are cows."

We'd move on. "And this," said the guide, "is a study of Lord Nob's favourite hunter in the compositional style of a Stubbs."

"No," said my daughter. "It is a horse."

Instead of appreciating my daughter's contribution, we were asked to leave.

I mention this because I was sniggering at the list of daft questions asked by visitors at English attractions, such as the tourist who had thought Queen Victoria's Osborne House was Ozzy and Sharon's pad. (And the fellow who asked how long life membership was for.) And suddenly I felt guilty.

English Heritage, it seems, released the list of embarrassing faux pas to help others overcome their shyness at asking questions and looking silly. How does that work when we just laugh at them?

It is an unfortunate characteristic of the English to take the micky out of anyone saying something cuckoo. If a TV broadcaster makes a daffy remark, well, that's fair game. But I always feel uncomfortable at the way we mock ordinary people who ask the obvious. And sneer at contestants on TV quizzes who give barmy answers under pressure. That is the modern equivalent of the stocks.

The English are inhibited enough already and people should be allowed to ask any question without fear of being pilloried.

Oh and by the way, you know that London Eye wheel? Where do they keep the big hamster?