I parked in a stranger's field after the retreat. Long driveway, racehorses, the kind of property that communicates, without saying a word, that the person who owns it has done very well. He fed the horses and went inside. I sat in my chair under the awning and thought: who's richer?

I gathered up a collection of artworks and drove them to an auction house. I drove home, walked back in, and it felt completely wrong. Within the hour I was back in the car.

I was talking to a woman who was heading to Dorset with her family. She was focused entirely on getting there. And I thought: she's already on the road trip. She just can't see it yet.