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A new life on the open road could be just the thing for me

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SOMETIMES, I feel like chucking it all in, selling the house and travelling around the world till I die. Problem is I don’t like the world.

I don’t like travelling either. For me, it is better to arrive than to travel. To be somewhere else: that’s always my aim. To get away. But not to spend time getting there. Basically, I’d like to be teleported or put in suspended animation for the journey.

Who could like sitting for hours on a train, plane or bus? To the man of action, it is purgatory.

Of course, one could always drive oneself which, while still sedentary, at least means you can stop where you want and go through some dance routines at the side of the road.

Friends have frequently suggested to me that I should live in a camper van, on the basis that I never belong anywhere and find it hard to settle down. Basically, they want me to be a tramp with wheels.

It’s not something I’d do abroad where, being foreign, people drive on the wrong side of the road and toot their horns willy-nilly.

But, conceivably, it could be done in Scotland, at least outwith virus lockdowns. It could be a fine way of life, every day an adventure, moving on when familiarity breeds contempt; new horizons; new landscapes; no ties to local communities with their ritual sacrifices and cannibalism.

The open road: what’s not to like? Well, cyclists obviously. And other motorists. But, apart from that, the world, or Scotland at least, would be my bivalve mollusc.

However, ever keen to micturate on my own parade, another problem is that I don’t like driving. Well, I kinda like it. I’m courteous. I don’t tailgate. I let other vehicles join the traffic. Hell, I even give cyclists a wide berth, and not just because of the smell.

But I have poor spatial awareness, cannot reverse in a straight line, and am prone to daydreaming, often just snapping........

© Herald Scotland