Any car ride with my dad at the helm feels eternal, ironic as he drives very fast. He just bitches and moans the whole way and it makes it drag.

See, I keep thinking of bus rides. Car rides, car rides...

Aha! Driving up to Coniston from Morecambe, not because of the distance but for how long we drove around looking for a good spot to camp overnight (at least that was the plan anyway); we set off at 12 and I think it was getting late in the afternoon when we finally settled. It was a lot of fun, that weekend.