No Country For Old Men?

9th January, the boys start their new term at school and for me this means an early rise at 6 am (5am, bst).

After dropping Adam to the bus, I was driving back along Pla de Martis, a wide expanse of farmland stretching for 5 kms from our house when I was struck by the effect of the breaking dawn. It brought to mind those shots of the American Mid West, epitomised in the films of the Coen brothers and how I imagine the landscape of the Border Trilogy by Cormac McCarthy to be.

All that was missing was for a thirty two wheeler to come hissing to a halt in a broken down truck stop and a bedraggled figure of a lady of the road, with one shoe dangling from a bruised hand to lurch from the verge and wave frantically for me to stop.

All things are imaginable if you drive a Wrangler !!