I hate the end of holidays, that awful feeling when you have to pack the car, the trunk is filled with rods, bags, cooler. I get behind the wheel and I am overwhelmed by this strange feeling of sadness and grief. In the car it smells of sunblock, old waders and Havana cigare, I am heartbroken, I start the car, behind me in the miror, I see the sunset on the river, my head is feeled with memories of trout caught at dusk, under the trees, when at last the air wasn’t too hot, I remember the barbecues, the endless talks under the stars. I turned the lights on, on the speakers was playing an old mixtape from DJ Vadim, live at Leeds, it made the drive easyer.