Written For Prospect Magazine:
I was powering along the French autoroute in my truly awful car wishing I had gone into mining precious metals or something when my travelling companion piped up from the passenger seat: “Why are you driving so fast?”
It was a good question. We were heading to a small town called Beaune. There was no rush. We weren’t late. We hadn’t even booked anywhere to stay. Nobody was expecting us. The world was even more indifferent to our progress than usual.
“I don’t know,” I replied, backing off a little.
“At least it’s not raining anymore.”
“That’s it,” I said, turning to her. “That’s it.”
“What’s what?” she frowned. “Keep your eyes on the road, you idiot.”