Driving off into the sunset

Ok, it's a bit of cliché and you probably won't even believe me when I tell you but, coming round the bend on the M1 slip road at junction 2 (yes, that endless curve that, despite being signposted as 30mph, you can comfortably take at about 50mph...admittedly not advised in a 25-year-old campervan), my heart leapt into my mouth and a tear sprang to my eye. If I hadn't been so busy trying to keep Bertie between the white lines I'd've reached for the camera; the sunset in front of me was nothing short of poetry and would've been worthy of any road movie's title credits.

The rest of the day had been full of nerves, packing, goodbyes, an impromptu cycle ride to Hackney to track down my 'lost' phone, more nerves and a little bit of panicking so this beautiful thought of the glowing orangy-peachy orb over North London's grey haze as my last memory of the city is a much more pleasant one and I can confirm I have indeed driven off into the sunset.

Funny though, I'd always thought I was driving north on the M1 out of London but, it seems, I was actually heading due west.