These exact words were overheard at the bar in Rudyards Pub on Waugh a couple of weeks ago coming from a guy with the most boggled out eyes and hill-billy accent you ever did see. He was straight out of a movie and drunk as a skunk – talking to anyone he could find. Even the drunks seem civil here; abruptly mid sentence he seemed to sense that either he was late for an appointment, or that people were growing tired of him jumping in on their conversation, and he excused himself and headed straight for the door. As for roads, I’ve seen plenty of them in the past 4 days as I urge my white Chevy Impala steed (with lights that never turn off) from lane to lane, trying desperately to not stray beyond the lines and watching for tricky red indicators disguised as brake lights. It’s seemed more difficult this time around to get accustomed – sheer volume of cars and endless construction make the commute to Greenspoint a bit of a sweaty knuckled affair. Day two was a lot better.