The long, hot and lovely days of Summer driving

I had driven into the next town from my own to run some errands, and when preparing to return home I thought, what a glorious day this is for a drive in the country. The car was running perfectly, the roads were near deserted and so, instead of driving the thirteen kilometres home I went the long way round.

For the past two years the main road to a town to the West of  us has been closed for improvements. It was opened just before the August vacations, so of course I had to go and investigate what had been done.

There are roads that empty onto main roads that are paved and I've always wondered from where do they come? Time to take a run along those roads and I find that another entrance I have been passing for many years provides the other end of the mystery.

Newspaper headlines have been reporting that the dams are running very low on water. So I took a run up to see for myself. I wish now I didn't do that because they are worryingly low to the extent that I am feeling guilty about giving water to my garden.

It is amazing how quickly Britain imposes a hose pipe ban should there be an absence of rain for some small period of time. Habitually it does not rain in Spain during the Summer but there is no order against me filling my pool.

When doing a run of curiosity  like this I discover a lot of useless information for the time being, but one day I'll have to find someone's house and realise I know exactly where it is.

These are indeed the somewhat hazy, and very lazy days of Summer that will had gone before we know it. Yes, it is hot to the point of being uncomfortable in that it actually stings to be in the full sun. However, it is my favourite time of year in Spain, and when it gets too hot to bear we can always visit friends and family in England.

That will bring our temperatures down considerably and we will be back to reality. Bless you Britain!

Copyright (c) 2016
Eugene Carmichael

What a difference a Country makes

For the past two weeks I have been driving on the left side of the road in the U.K. I lived the majority of my life in Bermuda where we drive on the left, so this was no great challenge to me; except that for the past seventeen years I have been living in Spain. Naturally that means I have been driving on the right side of the road. Whenever I visit the U.K. I have the same problem, and it is a real problem because one mistake is usually enough to end my life; and worse I could end someone else's life.

I did make two of those mistakes but became aware immediately without endangering anyone else. However, the major difference I had to get accustomed to was road courtesy. We don't usually practise that form of inter-personal behaviour  here, so the first time someone extended courtesy to me, in the car rental yard I was a little confused. What was he doing? He then waved me on, as to say, "after you." Oh! I remember this. The proper response was to ensure that I indicated "Thank You," and to be sure he got that message.

That was how I grew up in my driving life. British road rage comes from someone extending a courtesy and not being acknowledged. That is so understandable, so I was careful.

We attended a wedding and reception. As usual my wife drove there and I drove us home, being the designated driver. I drank only soft beverages. On the way home we passed a police patrol car that had pulled off the road to observe passing traffic. They were stopped in a well lit area. My car lights were set on automatic so that during the day when we drove into well shaded areas the lights would automatically turn on. The car decided that this night, because the area was so well lit it would turn the lights off just as the police took a look at us.

Sure enough, they came screaming after us. You were driving without lights. Eh? We soon discovered what had happened. At night we should switch the lights to permanently on mode.

This brings up the question of what happens when we are being driven in a autonomously driven car. Why challenge me about what the car was doing. I'm not driving. In fact, I'm drunk!

Where have you come from? A wedding reception. Have you been drinking? My wife said she had, I said I was the designated driver and had no alcohol. The officer said he could not smell any alcohol, so we were free to go.

The thing is that at the reception a glass of wine was poured for me and it sat in front of me all through dinner and tempted me terribly. At one point I actually took a sip, then thought better of it.

Being the designated driver is serious business, with the police being the least of our worries. The roadways are dangerous enough when we're stone cold sober.

It's like I say: What a difference a country makes!

Copyright (c) 2016
Eugene Carmichael

Those Charming British Country Lanes

I have a king-sized bed that is wider than those country lanes, which I think are suitable for one-way cycle traffic, but no, they carry two-way traffic consisting of motorcycles and cars, and trucks and busses, and uber-sized tractors.

I don't understand this because on both sides there are acres and acres of wide open land to widen the road and straighten out the curves. If all of the locals were as cautious as I am and drove at 10 miles per hour it wouldn't be so bad, but no, they fly around as though they were on the motorway.

I would  really like to describe my feelings when we came face to face with a massive John Deere tractor, but words will probably fail me. The tractor was emerging onto the lane from the fields and the driver apparently had no intention of stopping. At the last minute he saw us and stopped short. Given that he sits so high up I thought he could see for miles around, but he stopped so close to the car I near had a heart attack.

This seems like such an invitation for trouble that I seriously wonder why, in these modern times the situation has not been corrected?  There is tradition and custom sure, but we are talking about life and death, or at the least injury and property damage. I would have preferred not to have travelled along these paths but you don't get much choice. To get from A to B that's all there is. I'm back home now and I am able to uncurl my toes and relax my ass muscles, but I'll bet I lost several years due to the stress.

The irony is that these lanes exists in some of Britain's most beautiful countryside. It's a shame I couldn't fully enjoy the beauty without feeling certain I was about to die


Copyright (c) 2016
Eugene Carmichael