Another thing: There is this incredible sense of ease. The moment I crossed the border I felt safe. Why? I didn't feel unsafe before. Not at all. I think the explanation is that here I don't even need to think about it. I can afford to stop thinking. Look at the road surface, for example. It is perfect. Not just this bit, but the next bit too, and all the way to Los Angeles. I can count on it. I don't have to worry that around the corner it will turn suddenly to dirt, or drop me into a pothole. I can almost afford to take my eyes off the road; only habit keeps them there, a useful habit I
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