Only the complete terror in my shrieking compels the boss to grind to a halt, our front wheels searching for purchase beyond the grass. A suspicious fringe of green grass verging the bare mucky field, disguising a drop of about twenty metres to the river and fields... Thankfully, as he returns to the vehicle, he is shaking his head ruefully. I consult the map once more for another route, but in vain. “That’s it, just over there,” I say, pointing to a glistening steeple in the distance to our left, “but there’s no other road... The boss engages handbrakes, clutch brakes and heavenly favours, and we lose only some paintwork to the rock wall as we pull out of that bend. “Here, start calling out them turns to me,” he says, “or we’ll never make it.” He pushes the map at me. “One, two or three,... By the mercy of Michelin and the intercession of whoever it is that invented brakes, we come to a halt inches from the wall. I glance out the window. For some reason, we’re in the forecourt of a petrol station. “Are we low on fuel?” I ask. “No, but sure we’ve time to... A sideswipe straight out of the Fast & the Furious 17 and we have careened across those who dare stand between us and tender delivery. Was this what the Pony Express was like? I wonder. We flicker back beneath the motorway, nearly meeting a truck head-on. My life... 