On My Travels Again

I’m sorry for the big gap between this blog and my last, I have been rather busy with work and life and just yesterday I came back from a few days in Wales, a nice little caravan park in Porthcawl. It was a nice relaxing break and we decided we’d take the scenic route home, ignore the M4, M5, M6 etc. and travel through Hereford up to Shrewsbury and then across to Stoke. Yes it took a little longer but the view as so much better.

Now I am not a ‘speed demon’, at least not on public roads though I do love my racing games and a whizz around a Go Cart track. But the lovely open roads are a chance to enjoy driving. I don’t mean going over and above the speed limit, I don’t, not after a police car shadowed me for a few miles after I’d pushed the Calibra I was in to 120 on a lovely stretch of motorway back in the early 90’s. He didn’t stop me but my underwear was close to being soiled!

I do like to zip along in my Renault Scenic Auto (yes not exactly a Ferrari) but what really frustrates me is when there is a hold up and I get stuck in traffic. I can forgive the tractors, the farmers going about their normal business. I can almost forgive the trucks; in fact there were couple that pulled it to let faster traffic by which was good. What I hate are fellow car drivers who insist, on a clear bright day driving 10-20 miles slower than the limit.

Now my car is not the fastest at accelerating which means even when there is a chance to get by my car does not have the ‘grunt’ to nip by safely unless I hit a bit of road with a dual carriage way. This means if I do come across a meandering car I am stuck and, with 100 miles or so to go, this is very annoying. So what I want to know is: why?

Of the three cars we came across yesterday one was a man on his own of about my age. Maybe he’d been out for a lunchtime drink? Maybe he just liked driving at 30 all day long no matter where he was? The second one was a lady who slowed down on bits of straight road until the traffic caught up only to put her foot down when anyone tried to overtake! Maybe she was playing a game to enliven her journey? Perhaps the site of a mile long line of traffic in her mirrors gave her a rush of adrenalin?

The last car that held us up was a little silver thing. Between our car and it was a low loader with a nice white SEAT aboard for the ride. Now to start with the truck tried to pass a few times but like us didn’t really have the power to complete the manoeuvre. It seemed very keen to get past and stayed about 10 inches from the silver car’s boot awaiting a good opportunity, every now and then moving out to take a look before diving back behind in order not to crash head long into a huge lorry coming the other way.

This lasted about 20 miles or so until at last we came to a nice long stretch of road with no traffic coming the other way for miles! So what did the little truck do? Well nothing. Zilch. It seemed quite content by now to stay within kissing distance of the little silver car, it had grown too fond of the little thing and therefore didn’t make the move. And me and my car? Well I didn’t have the grunt to get past both! So I was stuck with a re-enactment of Steven Spielberg’s first big film before my very eyes. All the way to Stoke!

But why? Why did the truck driver need to travel so close all the way? Why didn’t the silver car stop and let the mad man by – surely having the thing filling his rear view mirror for 60 miles around tight narrow roads, around tight country bends and through lovely country villages didn’t do his heart rate any good? And yes he did have a few chances, there was even a roundabout at one point: I’d have gone around it a few times to shake the truck!

Anyway we hit the Friday home time traffic in Stoke so that relaxed me a little before we finally got home. Enjoy your journeys everybody.

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