Sep 30, 2007 22:04
I had the best gelato yet from a shop in Covent Garden. Hazelnut and Biscotti flavours. Much yum.
But that's not the point.
We went to North Wales yesterday and I saw awesome Welsh mountains. These are not your snuggly fluffy Lake District mountains. These are your kick-you-in-the-face-and-nick-your-lunch-money kind of mountains. Proper mountains. We went around Beaumaris, which was very pretty because you could look across the Menai Straits and see mountains - which I now like to refer to as 'God in his Play-Doh stage' - which is a pretty unbeatable view. It's properly turning autumn, so all the mountain colours were quite extraordinary.
But that's not the point.
The point is, I drove 80 miles from Wolverley to the Oxford services on Junction 8A of the M40. It took just over 2 hours. I went through Evesham, Moreton-in-Marsh, Chipping Norton (still no sign of Clarkson bombing around) and Oxford on the A roads. I went up that bloody Fish Hill on a 1:11.
And I was doing 60 mph, in 5th gear, listening to Chicane's Saltwater. It is the single most important moment in my life to date.
THAT is the point.
driving,
whee