It’s sheep shearing time up in the Black Country, and not the most opportune moment for a Gentleman Farmer to give an interview. I mean, there’s the sheep pens to be erected, the flock to be herded down from the hillside pasture, the title of a new Led Zeppelin album to be considered.

Thirty minutes later, we’re careening at break-neck speed down narrow country lanes with Robert Plant hugging the left-hand-drive steering wheel.

“She’s a great ol' bus,” hollers the Lemon Squeeze Kid over the indignant roar of the engine. “Trouble is, the engine has this unfortunate habit of spilling petrol all over the place and catching fire. If it does, the fire extinguisher is just by your feet.”

"Pop Star And Scribe Fried To A Frazzle. ” The headline flashes through my brain as Plant kicks down hard on the accelerator and guns his brown 1948 Chevy pick-up truck frantically down a 4 in 1 gradient and then, without so much as a “Don’t-blow-your-breakfast-on-thedashboard,” executes a full 90 degree turn and thunders down a bumpy unmade excuse for a road. __