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I was driving along when I spotted a black caravan parked in the layby on opposite side. So I turned around at the next roundabout and went back because I'm nosey and you don't see many black caravans. The owner turned out to be an artist named Paul John O'Hara. We had a real good natter about existence and 'God' and the universe and all that stuff. I'm not sure I could agree with or understand all he told me but he was obviously a clever and erudite person who spoke as much (more in fact) sense as anyone else to explain the reason we are here on this planet, afloat in a mind-boggling universe. To compound our mutual empathy he was also about my age and an engineer by training. His caravan was wonderful and I drove away thinking that the world would be a better place with more people like Mr O'Hara around.