You listen to the sound of the engine, the steady roar of thousands of minute explosions, too fast to isolate. Theoretically you understand what is happening; fuel, air, vapour, spark, explosion. Repeat. It all seems so simple. But when you try to imagine it happening, try to connect with what is going on inside the iron casing only inches from where you sit, it quickly accelerates out of sight. You are trying to control events that take place faster than you can comprehend. It is safer not to think about it too much.

Your travelling is simple in theory too – start, stop, sleep, wake, eat – but in reality it is much more complicated, a series of detailed negotiations involving an exchange of information, the construction of workable hypotheses, and the translation of theory into practice. You stop at a cafe in some town and eat a watery Spanish omelette with tinned peas and diced carrots. The bread roll comes in a tiny wicker basket like a small, crispy body in a cradle. The restaurant has brown vinyl chairs and plastic plants hanging from the ceiling in copper pot-holders.

A man and a woman enter the cafe and sit at the table in front of you.
‘Do you have eggs benedict?’ says the man to the waitress. He has an American accent.
‘Eggs, yes,’ says the waitress. ‘We have eggs. Scrambled, poached, fried, boiled. Omelette? What do you want?’
‘No,’ says the man. ‘Eggs benedict.’ He speaks slowly and makes a small chopping motion with his hand on the table.
‘Eggs benedict?’ queries the waitress. ‘No. No eggs benedict. What is eggs benedict?’

The man sighs heavily and looks across at the woman who is watching him closely, trying not to laugh. The man wants to leave, he’s a disappointed man, but already it is too late. He picks up a knife and taps it across his knuckles.
‘Eggs? You still want eggs?’ asks the waitress.

You sympathise with the man. Food is a constant irritant on the road, caught between stasis and movement, something you need in order to keep on going even though you must stop in order to get it. You try to make eating a set-piece encounter, disguising the body’s needs with a vague interest in local cuisine.

On Wednesday you eat Chinese. It is easy to eat Chinese. You find Chinese everywhere. You run through each dish trying to conjure the appropriate taste: Beef Chow Mien, Pork Chow Mien, Chicken Chow Mien, Seafood Chow Mien, King Prawn Chow Mien, Mixed Vegetables Chow Mien, Combination Chow Mien... The price variations seem arbitrary and inexplicable.

On Friday, you are tempted by calamari in the desert, the novelty of food eaten out of context as if somehow this enables a greater understanding of its taste and texture, the everyday made strange. Besides, you simply adore fresh seafood.

Sunday is Big Mac time. From the highway, you can see people inside the restaurant sitting with their hands clasped together as if praying. When you get nearer, you see they are holding burgers in front of their faces. A forest of litter covers the tables. The food is soft and warm and chewy. You allow it to dissolve in your mouth and then suck it between your teeth. In the car park, a cherubic baby in its mother’s arms reaches out towards the golden arches.

Late at night, you stand in a pizza parlour and watch the drunks spilling out of the pub across the street. The pizza man sprinkles a handful of cheese like wax shavings over a pizza and slides it out of sight, deep into the oven. Three metal plates are crucified above the counter. Always three. Sometimes the smallest plate is called Small but it can also be called Regular. The middle plate is called Medium and occasionally Large. The largest plate is usually Large but can also become Family. Only the Large can become Family.

You look at the plates – useless plates always on display, unable to move, never called upon to be merely plates – and feel the sudden weariness of all the journeys and all the people who have ever grown tired staring at an open road.

You know all about tiredness. You understand that sleepiness is one of the major threats to safe driving. Driver fatigue is a killer. Everybody is on constant alert for the tell-tale signs of weariness, ready to respond with appropriate action whenever it is detected. You cannot overcome it with blasts of fresh air or loud music. The only effective solution is to cease driving at regular intervals, find a safe place in which to rest or take advantage of the free refreshments kindly provided by various local community groups and other worthwhile organisations.