We had parked the camper on the parking
place beside the Seven Miles Bridge when we were woken
up by a loud clatter. There were a lot of c.d.'s on
Highway One. I quickly popped on my slippers and trousers
and I was able to rescue most of the c.d.'s before trucks
rode over them. It was bound to be a girl-friend who
didn't agree with the musical taste of the driver or
thieves who had jettisoned everything they didn't like
in a stolen car.
There was lots of rap, with explicit lyrics, parental
advice: Joe Cocker and some hip-hop. You began to form
a picture of the owner.
A half an hour later Anita saw a couple of white lads,
about twenty years old, searching all over Highway One.
I asked if they were looking for c.d.'s
"Yes. We found a few but they are all damaged.
I had picked up about thirty before they had been ridden
over by trucks so I was able to save most of them. The
question was, how had the c.d.'s landed on the road.
"We were parked beside you here in the parking
place and we put the bag with all the c.d.'s in it on
the roof of the car. When we rounded a bend in the road
everything fell off the roof. I saw it happening in
my rear-view mirror, but couldn't turn so it was fourteen
miles before we could come back to look for them."