This morning I am in the West Country. Once upon a time, I used to drive there every day, commuting from my home in Surrey to my job in Bath and back.
It was during the era when Chris Evans was the breakfast DJ on Virgin Radio – shortly before he bought the station, in fact. I had not yet discovered the much more interesting route involving the M3, A303 and a drive over Salisbury Plain that I would use for most of the time I worked down there. Instead, I simply travelled along the M4, a route which is perfectly good if you don’t mind the risk of being delayed by accidents, threatened by Nazi speed police and – which was the real kicker for me – a route so boring that I was always in danger of dozing off on the way back.
Chris Evans must’ve loved this song. For the whole time that I was taking the M4 route, it got an airing every day. And for some reason, it seemed to be at one of the same two points every day – either as I was descending the big hill towards junction 16 at Swindon, or just after I had turned off the motorway at junction 18 and was heading through a small village strangely named Pennsylvania.