I’m riding in a sightseeing bus with big windows. I’m sitting in an aisle seat about 4 up from the rear of the bus, on the right hand side. Jimmy Page is sitting in the window seat next to me. His hair is black and curly. He’s young. Robert Plant is sitting in the window seat behind Jimmy Page. There are a few other people on the bus in the seats closer to the driver, leaving several empties between where i’m sitting and where they’re sitting. There’s a couple of people in the back seats but no one directly behind Robert Plant.
We’re on a narrow curvy road with a steep drop off. It’s thickly wooded and summer, by the green of the leaves. I think we’re in Southern England, maybe around Devon or Cornwall and we’re on our way to Stonehenge. The sun beams that break through the trees reflect off Robert Plants blonde hair like little flashes of gold. He looks so beautiful. Occasionally Jimmy will speak to Robert and vice versa. I’m looking out the window past JP. He’s reading a magazine or something. I’m not bothering him by looking past him and occasionally we speak about the journey we’re on. I feel content.
