I think it's fair to say that I hate cars, car travel and all related practises. I enjoy motor car racing but not really when people attempt it upon the highways of our fine country. Similarly I don't much enjoy car users when I'm cycling, maybe it's just my vigilante spirit that makes me feel fairly inclined to get hold of a helmet camera and just record the day to day poor and potentially dangerous road users of England.
Cruising past the fairly horrible settlement of Swindon (I assume the stationary caravans by the motorway make up Swindon town center) it seems a fairly odd place to stick a town/city. 60ish miles from Cardiff, around 80 miles from Portsmouth and Southampton and god knows how far from London.
Isn't it funny, time, it becomes one of the greatest commodities. After a week and a few days the idea of becoming constantly involved with other people is slightly bewildering. Coming from wasting time to thinking of ways best to invest it is a massive surprise and change around. If only looking at the above, on a day largely expended sitting in a car on the route between home and here, while comparing it to today, time has become rarer, precious and now even important. Whether it is spent or misspent depends upon where the criteria lie.
Quantum? Well spent. Queuing in Sainsbury's for a til with the best looking girl serving? Hardly well spent. But what has been the more exciting part of the day? Maybe the sideways glance from the girl behind the til. Maybe spending the evening drinking someone else's beers in someone else's garden, twice. Maybe watching a team actually win a game of football. Respect it or it'll sell you out, badly.