After the post-apocalyptic fall-off in traffic at the start of lockdown, cars are now slowly starting to return to the roads. Well, if you’ve seen a smug git cruising through north Perthshire in a 1989 Atlantic Blue BMW 320i convertible, that’s me. I’m rediscovering the love of the car.
I started lockdown in London, hurtling down Edgware Road blasting out ‘Ghost Town’ by the Specials. Having decamped to the Highlands (in defiance of the SNP edicts to stay away), I now chug along at 20 miles per hour below the speed limit, with a gentle accompaniment of Hall & Oates. It’s pure bliss.
Is driving for pleasure within the government’s lockdown guidelines? It’s certainly not ‘essential’ travel. I’m not on the road for medical reasons or going to or from work, but many of my sallies are the preludes to vigorous walks, which makes them technically kosher.
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