Things are quite surreal at the moment. Let me paint the scene for you. It's the weekend and I'm driving on an empty road that snakes between hills. Skirting the road is a lush wooded forest that must have took centuries to grow from seeds to tall barks that sprouts leaves reaching the sky. Magnificent.
A song, a quirky French number, begins playing on the radio piped through the JBL 10-speaker sound system. The song is unfamiliar, nor is the singer. But her voice is sultry and it seems to invite contentment. As if the leather-wrapped seats of this car hasn't already lulled me into bliss. Not sleepy, just relaxed.
The car is also French. A Peugeot 508 GT, which means it gets its engine moving with diesel. Not that you are aware of it; no external noises are invading the inner bubble. The interior is one that is very well appointed and exudes the luxury of cars that are affordable to those in the higher pay scale.
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