How to Make Your Enemy Love You
He boots you out and steals your heart
The GPS hiccupped and told me to turn left off the motorway. I glanced at my companion sleeping beside me. It had been a long day taking the dawn flight out of Heathrow, picking up the car at Ataturk Airport in Istanbul, and then braving the roads crowded with Turks and truck drivers from all over, none of them generous with the right of way to a couple of tourists on the wrong side of the road.
We had stopped for lunch and he had faded away, handing me the driving and sinking into almost immediate slumber. “Just follow the GPS,” he said.
And I did. Even when it led me astray.
To be accurate, there was a huge dogleg in our route, and the GPS had just cut the corner onto local roads.
Rolling through the rural
Naturally, the motion of our rental car changed from the fast and straight motorway, albeit with more potholes than I was used to on a major highway, and I was swooping up and down hills, racing round country corners, and generally having a wonderful time amongst the hills and fields.
Say what you like about America’s Interstates, but motorway driving is divorced from reality. It’s boring.
