Hordes of angry natives are converging on the TARDIS, bearing flaming torches. The outside of the TARDIS is wood, or looks like it is. Clara would rather not find out whether or not it burns like wood.
“Doctor, do something!”
“I’m trying!” What a time to break down. “Aha! Got it!”
The TARDIS dematerialises, then fades back in. Clara cautiously peeps out the door to discover a scene that looks a lot like the one they just left, minus the mob.
“Where are we?”
“Same planet, different locale. The natives this side of the divide are more civilised. I hope.”