The road to Rhyl
I used to spend quite a lot of time driving a lorry between Liverpool and North Wales. It was kind of a dystopian version of the journey I used to take when I was a kid and my Dad would decide a day in Rhyl was what we needed (he wasn't one for long holidays - preferring the kind of day trip that would allow him to be home in time for tea and Granada Reports).
When I recall those car journeys they always appear bright, warm and sunny. As an adult, making the same trip in an 18-tonne curtain-sider full of binbags, the reality was a bit different.