Another sleepless night. Baby Boy O's fever seems to be easing off a little but there is still no reprieve for his sore gums. Given the situation English Hubby sacrificed his morning hike up to Guadalupe Peak and we pack up and drive toward civilization. When we break for lunch at Popeyes, Baby Boy O seems to be fighting fit, and demanding more chicken. By the time we park up in New Mexico, he's back to his old social self, absorbing every word of our conversation with Uncle Vince from the RV with the cool little Fiat 500 next door. A kindred traveller experiencing a change of pace, from Gulf Stream to A Class. Reflecting back on his life journey he says something that sticks like glue – there are no luggage racks in a hurst. Full stop.