Lingering death scenes, honourable gentlemen with puffed out chests, a little girl in
rags sweeping the floor; to say Les Misérables takes itself very, very seriously is an understatement.
The A82 through Glencoe is straight and fast, running along the
floor of the glaciated valley with just the occasional fast
sweep, but the R500 shrugs off the
ragged surface and settles to a cruising speed fast enough to have my Arai bobbing around like the head of a Thunderbirds puppet.