Lurch, brake, accelerate.
OK, this is bad. Dad’s doing his best, but these crazy roads are throwing us around in the back of the Citroen like frazzled yo-yos.
‘Where’re we now?’ Jack, my brother, moans. ‘You’re lost again, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ Dad responds tiredly, wiping his face. ‘I know exactly where we are.’
Frowning at the satnav, he guns up another anonymous twisting dirt lane. He’s been driving clueless along narrow tracks for over an hour.
Not that I mind. It’s not as if I care where we’re going.