After two productive days at our Edinburgh office, I drove south today. The trip planner had projected a driving time of six and a half hours to reach Oxford, and that was alost exactly right: my rest/fuel stops added up to an hour and a half, and the elapsed time was eight hours. I kept wishing that I’d had a driving companion to wield the camera: sunrise approaching Moffat, the bands of cloud draped across the Lake District, the army of ghostly windmills marching across the fells, the quizzical sheep gazing at my from the back of a Land Rover… But that was about it for scenery: from Lancaster onwards it was grey with occasional drizzle.
Afte spending a pleasant afternoon with my mother and brother, I went out to dinner with Lorna and my sister-in-law. Then I headed off for the short (one hour) drive to my next hotel in Slough. The first bit was easy: round the Oxford ring road, and an 80mph dash along the M40 to Beaconsfield. Here I turned south towards Slough. I don’t think I’ve actually been down that road since I was learning to drive 40 years ago, and it was just as twisty, hilly, and off-camber as I remembered it. My instructions were to drive through to the A4, turn right, then left…
I missed the left. Drove on, looking for elusive street signs. Finally I took an arbitrary left, intending to work back to the point at which I’d joined the A4. Uh-huh… this is England, not the USA. No grid patterns. The commutative law doesn’t hold here. I plunged on, clearly lost, but using the bright moon to keep heading in roughly the right direction. I knew I should stop and call the hotel, but I wanted to be able to tell them where I was, in terms of a recognizable landmark. I kept driving.
Finally I saw a large roundabout ahead, and just the other side of it a big hotel (but not the one I was looking for). I pulled over, called the my hotel, explained my predicament, and told them where I was. It turned out that I was only twenty yards from the hotel entrance! If I’d stopped a couple of feet further forward, I’d have been able to see their sign.
So all’s well that ends well? Not quite: the hotel is completely sold out tonight, and the only available room was a smoking room. ((My coment to the receptionist: “Congratulations on the booming business climate. Enjoy it while it lasts.” Lots of gallows humour around these days.)) I’ll put up with it tonight, and shift tomorrow.
Oh yes, and WiFi access is £12 for 24 hours. Daylight robbery.