Wednesday, April 04, 2007
There is a whole network of roads, junctions and roundabouts in the stygian gloom, and driving through it you feel like a drone in some dystopian troglodyte futurescape. Scattered throughout are enormous parking hangars, which, although hewn from rock, are uneven and whitewashed so they look like ice. Unavoidably, my geeky hindbrain expects to see tauntauns and snowspeeders parked here.
Today we found the coldest beach I have ever walked along. Even the gulls were shivering.