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The M6 can be an intimidating place at the best times, but if as I was you were seated in a 1957 Mark 1 Jaguar trundling along at a little over 40mph it can be summed up in two words. Fucking terrifying. I can well imagine anyone who regularly travels on Britain’s over taxed motorway system scoffing at this remark and saying you’re lucky if you can get up to forty miles an hour these days. All I would say to these people is they haven’t spent the last two hours staring nervously into a rear-view mirror watching large, flat fronted grills bearing badges such as Scania and Volvo getting bigger and bigger at an alarming rate of knots.By the time we reached Carlisle I had denounced my atheist views and was fervently praying to God, and by that, I mean any God who cared to listen. Allah, Buddha, Thor and Zeus, believe me I begged them all for it to end, or at the very least for junction 45 to appear on the signs. My two fellow travellers viewed my nervous disposition with a mixture of irri…

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