The engine tone dropped with a long sigh as the car pulled onto the exit ramp of the motorway. It barely slowed as it joined the roundabout and immediately turned left. Mark had anticipated the car braking and he had to grab the door handle as they whizzed round the bend and he lurched in his seat. He had never been a good passenger and this shock to his system only added to his bad-tempered mood.

‘So, now they’ve cornered the market for roundabouts here, they’ve also decided that there’s no need to bother stopping at them?’ he enquired of his colleague.

Neil smiled weakly, though he had to suppress a laugh at Mark’s childish attitude. Sometimes, it was like listening to his kids. ‘Sorry, there’s a filter lane to ensure the traffic flows off the motorway. I should have warned you. Many of the city grid roads have them. You’ll get used to it.’

Mark had no intention of getting used to it, or anything else about the “god forsaken place”, as he had described it when he had first learned of the move to Milton Keynes. He would do the necessary and then get the hell out and back to civilisation.

‘Grid roads? Who designed this place, the American Football League?’ he added, ‘So, what’s the next tour highlight? Oh, another roundabout. I wasn’t expecting that.’

They quickly turned right. Neil said nothing. The last thing he wanted to do was to fan the flames by trying to sell the place to his friend.

The vista suddenly opened up on both sides as they cruised along the dual carriageway. Mark’s eyes darted left, through the trees that rushed past them, and across a large lake to a Swiss style chalet on the far bank, which was fronted by masts of various crafts. Then he looked right to a smaller lake on which a motorboat curved around its contours, pulling a skier behind. His gaze was drawn beyond the water to a sloping grass bank on top of which stood a solitary bright white building, topped with what appeared to Mark to be a giant upturned umbrella.

‘The Peace Pagoda.’ Neil offered, seeing Mark’s frown. ‘A Buddhist temple, built by monks.”

‘Of course, what else would be there? Let me get this right. On the left it’s Switzerland. On the right it’s China or Japan or wherever. What’s after the next roundabout, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and a stampede of wildebeest? Are you completely sure we’ve not stumbled onto a Monty Python film set?’

Neil chuckled to himself. Sometimes, Mark could be good entertainment. ‘No,’ he replied as a matter of fact, ‘Next up is the reproduction Amazon rain forest.’

Mark stared at him wide eyed. He would believe almost anything right now.

‘Only kidding,’ Neil said after a suitable delay, breaking into a grin.

‘Git,’ Mark replied, but he couldn’t stop himself smiling.