Sunset, roofrack and seagull shit

I have always driven estate cars, since I was 18 years of age.
Back then they did not help me much in my quest for girls (what else would you be looking for when you are 18, the meaning of life? I think not!)
Anyway I grew a mullet and I bought a pair of cowboy boots and all was sorted (it was the late 80s and back then, strange as it may sound, a mullet helped one to get laid, even if one was occasionally spotted behind the wheel of a navy blue Renault 18 estate...)
This was the beginning of a love story. Not with mullets or cowboy boots (Santiags in French - don't ask me why...), but with estate cars.
And I so totally love my best estate car to date, the Volvo V70, with navy blue roof doted with seagull shit, reflecting the gorgeous Dublin sunset, while the kids are pumping on their carton of juice as if their lives depended on it, after the last run of the day on the beach (the six mile trek around Dublin Zoo didn't do the trick).

And today, none of the four of us managed to walk in a dog shit, which is extremely lucky on Bull Island, especially in low light conditions, when a canine excrement resembles a squashed can of beer, an empty bag of Taytos or a discarded Durex wrapper, all of which are scattered at regular intervals...

This blip is dedicated to Pondering-in-Howth who is taking a well-deserverd break from blipfoto. Go on drop her a line, I know that even though she is taking a break, it would mean an awful lot to that most dedicated of blippers, to the point of exhaustion.