There is nothing better than being cast adrift on a bus on the open road.
It is somewhere near midnight, lights off, blinds up, silence: the perfect conditions for the paranoia of a wandering mind.
Bugger, I think, where are we?
The destination may be set in stone, but whatever the prearranged final Mecca the endless asphalt in-between casts the traveller adrift in the passionate embrace of loneliness. It is exhilarating, yes, but it also somewhat disquieting, as no matter how you look at it you have absolutely no control over your fate.
And it is raining outside, which is never a good sign when heading on a resolutely fixed course of due north. Still, at least it isn't snowing. Well, not yet anyway. You see, Scotland is a highly unpredictable beast, even in summer. I remember once when I lived in Edinburgh I was walking through a vicious shower of freezing rain so determined that even the Big Issue sellers had scarpered. And I thought, 'yeah, summer, they must be lying to us...'
But that was years ago, back when I worried about such things and thought that cowboy hats were fashionable. Today the rain doesn't concern me. At least not when the cricket is on. Bugger it, I decide, I'm a Celt and as such I am a member of the only race of human that is cold blooded and designed to enjoy misery.
My mind is set. I hope it's raining in Edinburgh... But first of all I have to trust a driver to negotiate all this tarmac. Which isn't an easy thing on a road covered with puddles...
1) Pit Stops: The Land of the Human Zombie
2) What a Pong
3) Health and Safety During the Scottish Summer
4) Puddle Hopping
5) Reflections of A Self-Righteous Scrotum