A couple of weeks ago I visited England to see my two new grandchildren, Alice and Alex. They live 170 miles apart and I was forced to rent a car to simplify my mode of travel. Little did I realize I would be at the mercy of BMWs, Mercs and Audis. What is it with the drivers that own these models? They do believe they own the road and woe betide the discerning driver that gets in their way.
I know there are 3 lanes on a motorway and the middle lane is earmarked for overtaking, but I see little point in staying within the inside lane where you have to continually negotiate slower traffic merging onto or exiting the motorway. The speed limit is 70mph which I hovered around on every trip, but the aforementioned models regularly zoomed past me in the outside lane breaking the sound barrier in the process, and totally oblivious of a succession of speed cameras which buzzed my GPS System every five minutes.
I don’t usually suffer from road rage when I drive on Atlanta roads although there is sufficient reason to do so. I guess the possibility of another driver packing a gun is a sobering deterrent and rage is restricted to the gnashing of teeth and turning the air blue which are safer option. But having drivers up one backside and then swerving violently around you as frequently occurred on the motorway is not my idea of fun.
I was accompanying my wife on a business trip and we stayed at the Radisson Blue which is a charming hotel (if you can find it within the spaghetti road network) in the heart of Guildford on the outskirts of London. I should advise you Guildford’s heart is slowly having the blood squeezed from it like pips from lemon by the myriad of roads that attempt to slither their way through the town center.
Woe betide the motorist new to the area (me for example) that does not place himself in the correct lane for egress and regress. Be warned however. If you are lucky enough to negotiate your way through the Guildford triangle a plethora of roundabouts lie in wait on the way to your destination. Little wonder there are so many pubs in England. Surviving a road trip from A and B calls for a drink or three to calm the shattered nerves.
My son navigated us to Farnham which is a delightful historic town full of nooks and crannies where mercifully one can escape the highways and boy racers. Cobbled streets, narrow lanes and archways allow the pedestrian safe haven from the automobile providing you don’t sprain your ankle on the uneven terrain.
A 170 mile road trip from Guildford to Paignton, Devon comprised 6 hours on a Friday afternoon. Most of the time was taken up by sheer volume of traffic leaving the urban sprawl for a weekend at the English Riviera (Torquay and Paignton for the uninitiated.) Every cloud has a silver lining, and we had the opportunity of visiting Agatha Christie’s former summer house “Greenway” which is now owned by the National Trust. All the rooms are decorated in the 1950s style and have enough artifacts to sink the Titanic again.
Notwithstanding the antics of the obnoxious British motorist the trip was a great success. My wife met her new boss for the first time, my children and grandchildren are healthy and happy, and were not too displeased to see me. I also hooked up with an old friend in Castlecombe which is a picturesque village in the splendid Cotswolds. We enjoyed a scrumptious lunch of haddock and thrice-baked chips at the quaint Salutation Inn which is highly recommended on Trip Advisor. Go and check it out.
Ha ha! Living. Out of the old country too long, bro. Average motorway speed in the uk is 77mph in the middle lane. You weren’t conforming to the norm so all the middle management guys were just going to regard you as a nuisance, stopping them getting to their meetings in Slough. Your hot up and go just got up and went..
Where is the post for my blog you promised me?