Imagine my surprise when I find that page 14 sees the previous hour of my life chronicled in print!
James Bond changed down into third gear, drifted the Saab 900 Turbo into a tight left-hand turn, clinging to the grass verge, then put on a fraction more power to bring the car out of the bend.
He was driving through a complicated series of country lanes.....through the hedges, rolling fields and cathedral arches of trees threading the byways of Surrey. It was a cross-country route that would, finally, take him on to the Guildford bypass and a straight run, on good roads, into London
Yup, that's eactly what I had just done. My route home (yes, in my Saab 900 Turbo) had just lead me through the country lanes of Surrey, taking me around the back of Guildford back up to London.
Bond was travelling much too fast. A glance at the head-up display of digital instruments ...... told him the machine was touching seventy miles per hour. Decidedly dangerous for this kind of secondary road.
Bond and I go our seperate ways here, as I saw little need to slow down. Oh okay, then- you get up to 80 or faster on the A25, but the villages should be driven through a little slower. And I don't have digital instruments.
But then, spookily:
Now on this beautiful Friday evening in early June, he was driving at breakneck speed back to London
Yes, it is a beautiful sunny evening, yes it's Friday, yes it's early June, yes I was driving at breakneck speed back to London.
I am James Bond. Fact.
