Category: British

On my radio

Out on the edge of the city of Coventry is the campus of Warwick University. At the heart of the campus is the Warwick Arts Centre. I recall “Rockpile[1]” when they played a UK university tour in 1978 or 9. One of their concerts was at the Warwick Arts Centre and I was there.

It was a fantastic night. No idea how I got there or got home to my rundown student accommodation in Coventry. My student days were at what was then called the Lanchester Polytechnic. A clumsy group of post-war modernist buildings strung up in the centre of a struggling city.

Music-wise I was living at the centre of the known universe. Between 1978 and 82 Coventry was alive. Venues were full. It was a youthful eruption of music. There was an air of decay in the crumbling manufacturing heart of the West Midlands. The brutalist and raw concrete architecture of the city was gathering moss, springing leaks, and not living up to the idealism that built it. Maybe the cost of living was not so hight, but something kicked-off an explosion of creativity. The energy of 40-years ago made its mark on popular culture.

Anyway, what I’m recalling here is a BBC Radio 1 DJ. She was that at the time. This week Annie Nightingale[2] has passed away. It seems fit to remember her with her finger on the pulse of what was happening. She was at the Rockpile Warwick Arts Centre concert, seeing and being seen. Much senior to the students in that hall. That didn’t matter one bit. Whispers went around in respect – that’s Annie Nightingale. We knew we were at a special event.

There’s another recollection I want to get off my chest. It involves cassette tape and an amber-red Sunbeam Imp[3]. Making compilations was all the rage with cassette tape. In this case it was Annie Nightingale’s compilation. Probably in the early 1980s.

Who knows which Halloween it was, but I had one recoding of one radio show she did that was my favourite car tape. Her instincts were prefect. It was one of those tapes that could be played repeatedly wherever I was going. My school days echo with the “Monster Mash.” A smile comes over my face when I hear Barnes & Barnes and Fish Heads[4]. Or “Werewolves of London” by Warren Zevon[5]. Don’t Fear the Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult. A great selection of fun packed horror-themed tunes.

Annie’s Halloween radio show was a masterpiece. She defined cult classics. Her earnest side aside she was mischievous. In a box. I know not where that tape may still exist. I’ve a mind to look for it. Thanks Annie.

[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rockpile

[2] https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2024/jan/12/annie-nightingale-radio-1-dj-dies-aged-83

[3] https://classicmotorsports.com/articles/not-mini-sunbeam-imp/

[4] https://youtu.be/cn73Wtem0No

[5] https://youtu.be/c6M89iDabwM

Chat

Yesterday afternoon, at the till in a major supermarket and the man in front of me was getting stressed. I was standing in line waiting without a care in the world. In front of the man, in front of me, the till assistant, or checkout operator, dependent on how you see it, and a customer were locked in day-to-day conversation. Just being sociable. From what I could hear that customer may have once worked in that supermarket at some time.

The man in front of me was getting grumpy. He turned back and muttered his disdain for the shop’s staff because they were holding him up. Their everyday conversation was an afront to him. They were wasting his valuable time. Not overly aggressive but he had an agitation that often comes from a degree of unwelcome stress. He was in a hurry or at least heavily felt the pressure of time.

When I got to the till the assistant asked: What did he say? I quickly paraphrased what was said. Conscious that I had no desire to inflame the situation that had now passed by. Reactions can be unpredictable. We live in an era of polarisation.

The gentleman working at the till was into small talk. He clearly loved to chat to customers. Then for me he put that in context. He said that when it gets to about ten, in the evening, people are more than happy to talk as they pack their shopping. With some people it’s the only conversation they have in a day. He was proud that staff were encouraged to be warm and friendly.

Now, there’s a contrast. The life of Mr busy, busy, busy verses the life of the forgotten. That division is at the heart of one of society’s biggest troubles. A tribe that is over-employed, anxious, and living on the edge and a tribe that is lost, lonely and forgotten.

One prone to exasperation and being impatient. The other desperate for social contact and empathy. How on earth did we construct a society that tries to work on that level? Not only that but supermarket managers are desperately trying to automate everything[1]. Already there’s three types of automation in that you can do your own till check in a couple of different ways.

The milk of human kindness shouldn’t be sneered at. Wow. You see how quickly I reverted to Shakespeare without even knowing it. That simple phrase has its origins in the play Macbeth. The play that I was forced to read at school. The play that did nothing much to lift my appallingly bad grades at English. To Lady Macbeth, the “milk of human kindness” was objectionable. To her real men had no need of it. We all know where that led. Don’t go there.

So, next time you are standing in a short que, stomping your feet, imagining the clock spinning around, give it a rest. If you find yourself thinking this is too much, I can’t deal with it anymore, do a double take. Relax. Breath slowly. Dig deep and discover some small talk. It might be more meaningful than you first think.

On another subject. I agree with Graham Nash[2]. A day in the life[3] is a truly great song. It’s life as a musical tapestry. The song wanders around the mind using hardly any words but painting a picture all the way up to the sky. I’ll not heaping yet more praise on The Beatles, they’ve enough for several centuries. That said, May 1967 was a magical moment. Even if I did only know it with toy cars and in short trousers. It’s not the daily news but I’ll bet there’s probably now more holes in Britain’s roads than ever.

[1] https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20170619-how-long-will-it-take-for-your-job-to-be-automated

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graham_Nash

[3] https://genius.com/The-beatles-a-day-in-the-life-lyrics

Call to account

Accountability. There’s a nice word. It’s kind of biblical. It’s one of those so-called golden rules. An account is about balance and fairness. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”. A simple and straightforward notion.

I’d say that means that we expect ourselves to account for errors and misdeeds, and we are often our own greatest critics. In balance then we expect others to account for their errors and misdeeds.

Our society doesn’t have a police officer standing on every doorstep. That would be intolerable. What we call civilised behaviour requires each of us to be accountable for our action, to ourselves as much as to everyone else.

Listening to the story of the Post Office (PO), and its persecution of postmasters, it’s apparent that the innocent individuals first questioned themselves before they questioned the failing computer system that they had been forced to use.  

Go back 20-years and Computer Weekly[1] was pointing out that the large-scale transition from a paper-based system to a computer system was going badly wrong. An accountable institution would have urgently investigated and fixed any problems, which are not unexpected in the introduction of a new system. In this case, cover-up and denial seems to have been the strategy. Then blaming the innocent and going to extreme measure to punish postmasters.

The PO did not do unto others as it would have them do unto it. The corporate blindness to injustice and its self-protection mechanisms were the worst of what an institution can be. Now, the appalling injustice is evident to everyone and it’s difficult to understand where accountability was in the past. By cruel imposition, accountability was distorted by the powerful.

I hate to say it but there’s a general lesson in what has happened at the PO. In the last 10-years there are numerous significant national failures where the strategy of blame and going to extreme avoidance measure has prevailed. The billions (£) wasted on personal protective equipment (PPE)[2] during the pandemic is only one case. The billions (£) wasted by Truss in a few days. Don’t start me on the billions (£) wasted on Brexit.

In our democracy the notion is that accountability comes through free and open elections. The argument goes: if you don’t like what they have done you can kick them out. If there is such a thing as natural justice, we might expect that to happen. I remain an idealist in a year of elections.

I sat down in Morrisons[3] yesterday morning. There was a copy of a national tabloid newspaper lying around. I picked it up to read it with my tea. The line it took, on the one hand, is to highlight the injustice of the PO scandal. On the other hand, it did its best to exonerate the current government and cast shadows over the opposition. Not much honest accountability. Conservatives, who have been in power for more that a decade, are swiftly trying to rebrand.

Golden rules are great but political expediency is much in play as we run up to a General Election. I hope that the public will see through rebrand underway. Let’s hope.

[1] https://www.computerweekly.com/feature/Post-Office-Horizon-scandal-explained-everything-you-need-to-know

[2] https://www.transparency.org.uk/track-and-trace-uk-PPE-procurement-corruption-risk-VIP-lane

[3] https://groceries.morrisons.com/

Snow

In Hertford, Hereford, and Hampshire, hurricanes hardly ever happen. Good job too, I’d say. The phrase is from a song called: “The Rain in Spain,” in the musical My Fair Lady. That was a Christmas treat. It’s antiquated but still a wonderful classic film[1]. Yes, some of the miming is rather questionable but the story is told in a leisurely and wonderfully warm way. It’s just enjoyable entertainment.

It’s not pitching. What’s not pitching? The snow. The snow is not pitching, I said. This morning when we had flurries of half-hearted snow. Snow not sleet. The sort of light snow that I could be confident in saying was going nowhere. It danced around in the air more for performance than doing anything that was going to mess-up my day. Fluffy and gentle and certainly no hurricanes.

Sue looked at me. She’s done this before. You see London folk are hardly acquainted with the term I used to describe what the wispy snow was doing. Strangely, I thought Chat GPT would draw the same blank on the use of this verb of mine, namely to pitch. It didn’t. Whereas Microsoft’s AI hadn’t a clue when I asked did about “Hertford, Hereford, and Hampshire”, for my simple West Country verb it got it right away. Although, the AI’s explanation was to say that the word was from the city of Bristol. How could it have known any better?

It’s an alternative word for settle. The snow fell but it didn’t settle. I’d say the snow fell but it didn’t pitch. I’d say that instinctively. So, ingrained I’d wonder why anyone would use a different word. It means that the snow that was falling disappears as soon as it hit the ground. In other words, it’s too warm or the snow not plentiful enough for any accumulation or hazard for that matter.

Fictional professor Henry Higgins would no doubt have looked at me with disdain. Londoners have this way of thinking that theirs is the only valid English language spoken. What will the proliferation of digital bots do to innocent regional quirks? Will Chat GPT become a snobbish tyrant like Higgins? Or will it become like a journalist writing for The Sun newspaper? Writing as if my reading age was about 10 years old? I have no answer to that one.

It would be a shame if inevitable electronification stuffed us all into the same box. Ironed out the ripples and variations in langauage. Gave the pedants a leg-up and arrogantly kicked the rest of us. Will we need a Campaign for Real Speaking?

On another point. Conversations can go off at abstract tangents. One thing I’ve noticed about AI is that when it’s fumbling for an answer it will throw-up anything with a vague link to the subject of interest. It’s saying – I’m still not sure what you’re asking so I’ll take a blunderbuss approach.

Today, I learnt something I already knew. I knew it because last year I did a lecture at the University of Hertfordshire. However, the information had disappeared into the far corners of my brain. The University of Hertfordshire has an American Football Club called the Hertfordshire Hurricanes. I wonder if some cocky smart alec[2] named the team because of the musical. I’ll bet – not.

POST: An answer could be that the site of the University is the site of a former British aircraft factory. The de Havilland Aircraft Company Limited. However, the Hawker Hurricane was not produced on that site. de Havilland did produce propellers for the Hurricane.

[1] https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0058385/

[2] https://grammarist.com/usage/smart-alec-and-smart-aleck/

Enough

I’m not a supporter of the Labour party leader but his call for change is surely one that is echoing through every street of the land. By the way, good choice for a location to make a national New Year speech[1]. And all the Conservatives could do in response is make populists claim that he’s a populist whilst doing nothing other than being populist. Populism eating itself. Populists accusing others of being populists. Admitting the flaws in what they do whilst trying to paint those flaws on others.

No, Prime Minister Sunak procrastination is not the way forward. He’s without core principles, hanging on to exploit whatever comes along. There’s zero authenticity only maximum opportunism.

Liberal Democrat party calls for a General Election are spot on. The reality is that we are destined to have a year’s worth of election campaigning ahead if the election date if not called for the spring.

Liberal Democrats “Tory Removal Service” may signal a love for publicity gimmicks but getting national attention when the media landscape is polarised is not a simple business.

Leader Ed Davey is showing that there is an alternative to the worn-out outdated political parties[2]. It’s a challenge to the British electorate. Do you want the stale ding-dong of national political debate to go on disappointing forever? We can do better. We can mend a political system that has been fundamentally broken for an age.

Rather than feathering the beds of supporters we need a government commitment to equality. Rather than short-termism we need a government that takes the long view. Rather than shunning our neighbours we need a government that embraces internationalism.

Yesterday’s resignation of Conservative MP Chris Skidmore[3] appears much like a rat leaving a sinking ship but it’s more important than that classic media interpretation of events.

Skidmore addressed the issue of short-termism head on. He’s resigning citing the on-going legislation to boost North Sea oil and gas drilling. Next week, the UK Parliament returns to consider an Offshore Petroleum Licensing Bill. This Conservative Government’s move is a kick in the teeth to the country’s green credentials. He states, I can no longer stand by. The climate crisis that we face is too important to politicise or to ignore.

Promoting the production of new oil and gas sources is a backward move. Yes, we need energy security but that should be a driver to invest in electrification and reducing energy waste. There’s a list of policy moves that could return the UK to a position of leadership on climate change.

2024 is likely to see the current Conservative administration flaking like peeling paint as it slowly decays. We do not need opportunistic papering over the cracks. It would be so much better for the whole country if they stood aside – soon.

[1] https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-67880324

[2] https://www.libdems.org.uk/news/article/new-year-2024

[3] https://news.sky.com/story/tory-mp-chris-skidmore-to-stand-down-over-bill-that-promotes-production-of-new-oil-and-gas-13042746

The Will

We’ve entered the first days of a New Year. Traditionally, it’s a time for reflection and speculation.

Looking back at the path behind.  Looking forward at the unmade path ahead. Four and twenty years into the new millennium perhaps it’s not so enjoyable to look back. To be reminded of the travails of the last decade, in particular, isn’t that helpful. We can go back to feel good moments, like 2012 and the London Olympics[1]. Sadly, there hasn’t been enough of these moments of unity and common purpose. Unscrupulous politicians have become fixated on dividing people.

This year, the opportunities to change all that are staring us in the face. It’s an Olympic year[2]. Choices abound. Elections mark an opportunity to carve a new path ahead. Doomsayers are totalling up the conflicts in the world. Listing the threats. Calling our attention to our weaknesses. This is one side of the coin. I’d rather highlight the other side of the coin.

As much as humanity is well capable of breaking things it’s getting ever better at fixing things. We may be slow in recognising climate change, but it’s spurring innovation on a massive level.

Despite the aging demographic in this country, the world is more youthful. That worldwide youth is gaining better education, in numbers unimaginable in past millennia.

The Human vs. Machine narrative is a false one. The choice is ours as to what to do with technology. We need to take that responsibility. The means to do so are available to us if we choose to us them.

Health outcomes, at a global level are improving. Our understanding of the afflictions of humanity is advancing to meet the challenge. Our responsiveness to new threats is improving.

So, don’t look down at your feet. Look up, look forward and prepare for a better future.

There’s also a stubborn noise in our political debate. Every request is for more money. The thesis is that the problem, whatever it is, will be solved by more money. Sometimes that’s the way to go. Investing in science and research has been shown to work. It clearly helps to have a well-trained and well-motivated workforce. However, this sum isn’t digital. In other words: More Money = solution. Less Money = failure. In a lot of cases, it’s not money that is the missing component.

Much of what I’ve observed fits a different equation. Namely, sustained political will equals progress. Lack of political will equals stagnation. And political will deployed like a blunderbuss equals disappointment and waste. I’m talking of a version of “A House Divided Cannot Stand.” The issue is how to differentiate and not how to divide. They are different.

The British high-speed rail debate is a sad example. Sustained political will can deliver. Poor management, shilly-shallying and constantly shuffling the pack, which is what has happened, lays the tracks to failure and waste in the long term.

2024 can be a year when we take back control of our destiny. Commitment to building a better country. A generous and inclusive society that brings people together. We have the will.

[1] https://www.londonolympics2012.com/

[2] https://www.paris2024.org/en/

Eurostar

More than a few times the thought that climate change will impact transport has been raised. Not so much as transport impacting climate change but the two go hand in hand. Whereas the assumptions built into roads, rails and airports were of their time, time doesn’t stand still.

More frequent heavy rain and raised tides, and the flooding associated with them, are to be expected. To hear that the rail tracks between London and the Channel Tunnel have been underwater shouldn’t be too much of a shock. Flooding is a worldwide threat to public transport systems. In London, over the last couple of days, flooded tunnels brought travel chaos. Millions of gallons of water were not where they were supposed to be.

We can get used to disruption caused by strong winds and torrential rain sweeping across the country. The question to ask is – should we? I always wonder as soon as I see the word: “unprecedented” in a public statement. Huge volumes of water may not have been predicted to overwhelm the pumping systems designed to keep them under control, but now we know. It makes me think we are going to hear the word “unprecedented” a lot more in future.

This city centre to coastline railway is relatively new[1]. It cost £6.84 billion and opened in November 2007. Most travel commentators would say that it has been a great success. I was looking forward to the day that the German train company, Deutsche Bahn was to implement plans for a London to Frankfurt train service. Sadly, that project was shelved in 2018. I wonder why[2]? That “B” word again.

The subject of these comment, the Thames Tunnel is over 3km long. The rail lines dive beneath the river from the counties of Essex to Kent. This High-Speed rail tunnel goes under the river near Fiddler’s Reach. This part of the River Thames, much like most of the tidal river, was once busy with commercial shipping. It’s been the site of unfortunate events before[3].

Further upstream is the Thames Barrier. A truly magnificent structure. The barrier protects central London against a storm surge. It works well. However, it will eventually need to be replaced. The inexorable tide, no pun intended, is moving just one way.

Risk is a multifaceted factor: operational, economic, social, political, safety, security. Did current risk assessments foresee a likelihood of flooding? I don’t know. The safe running of High-Speed trains through underwater tunnels should be subject to risk assessment. I’m sure it is.

Eurostar has experienced a set back as 2023 comes to an end. Eurostar services are again running as normal. But this weather-related event highlights the fact that climate change will impact transport systems. If the thought has not found its way onto the desk of a civil servant, it might be as well to do a high-level audit of the nations transport infrastructure.

Either that or get used to using the word “unprecedented” a lot more.

[1] High Speed 1 (HS1) is a 109.9-kilometre high-speed railway linking London with the Channel Tunnel.

[2] https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/politics/london-frankfurt-cologne-train-deutsche-bahn-db-eurostar-cancelled-shelved-a8394806.html

[3] https://www.britainfromabove.org.uk/en/image/EAW143996

Privilege

How we choose the people who make our laws. That matters. Or at least it should matter.

We are persuaded to think that UK General Elections solve this by putting a ballot in the hands of every eligible voter. Those national elections are called at the behest of the party in power, so there’s an element of choosing the playing field. Also, levels of voter engagement depend a greatly on the current affairs of the moment.

The song goes: “why should we be ballot with the ballot in our hands”[1]. That’s to say that elections should matter in the determination of what happens next. History shows that this is not quite what it seems. The song is a nice sentiment when the ballot makes a real difference. However, for a great number of positions of power and influence there’s no such thing as a ballot.

Basically, the British Prime Minister (PM) has powers that Julius Caesar would have coveted. Elements of the British political system remains feudal. Conferral of honours is part of the power package. There’s no argument that being PM is a demanding job but that shouldn’t be an automatic trigger to bestow gongs and seats on the red benches of Parliament.

The Liz Truss resignation honours list is an abomination.

An affection for honours is much more of a Conservative addiction than any other. It fits so well with a view that statesman come from an elite branch of British society. The over representation of the famous public schools of the country is one indicator. People with certain backgrounds are grossly overrepresented in Parliament. More recently professional political manipulators and bag carriers have been favoured.

Contribution to the political life of the country is code for having helped a particular political party or politician to get where they want to go. To the average citizen there’s little or no relationship between bestowed influential honours and the general public good.

Any appointments process benefits from being accountable and transparent. In this case there isn’t much of either. Publication of a list after the event doesn’t count.

There should be some interest in maintaining public confidence in the system. Well, that’s an assumption I’m making but the evidence shows that there isn’t much interest. Confidentiality surrounds the appointments process. That gives licence to speculation, conspiracy theories and unusual people unexpectedly popping up on lists.

Parliament’s House of Lords is no longer construction exclusively from the landed gentry, but lot of appointees owe allegiance to the status-quo. That status-quo being inherently conservative.

This is a time when people are pulling together plans for the next year. Restructuring ought to be near the top of the priorities. Respecting the merit of meritocracy has some legs. Overriding all, currently, is restoring public confidence in the political system. To not do so will result in troubles ahead. Big troubles.

[1] https://www.nuff.ox.ac.uk/Politics/papers/2005/McLean%20Nou%20Beggars3%20050617.pdf

Autotraffic

Driving back from Christmas. That’s not a Chris Rea song. Although, he did write “Driving home for Christmas[1]” while stuck in heavy traffic. I expect the feelings are similar – moving down the line. It took some time. Redlights flickering everywhere. Looking at the drivers next to me – looking just like me. Looking stoic or miserable or both.

Our carborne irritations were trivial when compared with the conditions in Scotland. We didn’t get 80 mph winds. At least the snail’s pace of the traffic on the main A303 was a snail’s pace. Inch by inch we moved closer to where we wanted to be. No streetlights on the jammed part of the A303, yesterday. The light went up and down with the heavy cloud cover. Colours ranging from gloomy grey to even gloomier dark grey.

Windborne debris, litter, like discarded crisp packets, set off on journeys of their own. Waterfilled potholes blended into the grey of everything. Crushed traffic bollards popped up as if they were growing amongst the sodden grass verges. Occasional motorcyclists took their life in the hands as they weaved amongst dozy drivers.

In the stationary moments my mind wandered. Who were those people dressed in the storm gear doing the tourist march around Stonehenge? They were not going to give up one moment of their vacation. What’s a blizzard of rain comparted to a once in a lifetime trip around ancient stones?

I got to thinking – how would this work if half the cars around me were automated? Human behaviour is pretty erratic. Driver temperament goes from kind and generous to intensely mean. From the laidback CofE vicar to the road rage professional. The circumstance of the drivers is hugely different too. One may be surrounded by screaming children while another is lone, absorbed in their favourite podcast. The first is a couple of hours into the worst drive of their entire lives. The second is in no hurry and happy for the day to drift by.

I sincerely hope that the makers and promoters of “driverless” cars take the human factor seriously. We know enough from aviation to know that the interaction between humans and semi-automated machines is exceedingly complex. That’s in situations where operating procedures are tightly controlled and monitored.

It’s one thing for car makers to rattle on about the importance of safety, it’s another for promises to meet the road. I’d say this is particularly true for the average British main road. Given its provenance there’s an excruciating number of variables. A truly dynamic set of variables that increase dramatically with speed. Weather goes from plus thirty summers to minus ten ice packs. Worn white lines come and go. Grass verges overhang the carriage way. Tarmac cracks and puddles compete with mud sloshing across the road in the heavy rain. Magpies dart into the road to munch the carcass of a dead hedgehog. The one that didn’t make it across the road.

Human drivers compensate for all the imperfections because that’s just what we do. It’s amazing even what the worst of us do. On the other hand, machines must characterise every single non-standard situation with accuracy, reliability and at great speed. Next time, I’m driving home for Christmas it will be manual. Likely, for a decade more too.

[1] https://youtu.be/uSjq7x67kzM

Gerrit

Apparently, Gerrit is the Dutch, and Frisian form of the more familiar name Gerard. It’s the name the UK Met Office[1] has given to the winter storm that has just barrelled its way across the country. I don’t normally write about wind and rain, but this storm is worth a short note. Not least because there was plenty of it for me to see as I was stuck in heavy traffic up on Salisbury Plain.

There’s some niggly social media kick-back on this habit of naming of storms. It’s winter after all. Having gloomy warnings pop-up for yucky British winter weather can get a bit tedious. In this case, I did take note of the weather warnings for Wednesday. Fortunately, the strong winds were blowing the right way for me. West to east.

My plan. Yes, I did have a vague travel plan. My plan was to get a major part of my journey, eastward on the main A303, done before the weather turned into heavy rain and strong winds. That well-meaning plan failed. Salisbury Plain[2] is an expanse of open chalkland which is exposed to weather from all directions. Today, I’ve spent too much time watching grey clouds traverse those uplands.

I blame Stonehenge. If prehistoric people hadn’t built it where they did then we’d have no traffic jams. The roads would be free. Those ancient builders must have been Europeans. In fact, they were since countries didn’t exist. Sorry, that’s just me pretending to be a Daily Express reporter.

Sure, enough it’s the stretch of the A303 that passes by Stonehenge that is the worst for traffic build up. Winter or summer. One of the reasons is the shear level of traffic on this main road. It’s a popular route across southern of England but it suffers from a classic road syndrome. The better it gets (condition wise) the more traffic it attracts. Road “improvements” continues to be made, often at great expense and controversy. The encampment of road protestors at Stonehenge has disappeared. That said, I’m absolutely sure their objections to further expansion of the road haven’t gone.

This year, for late December the temperature is remarkably warm. It’s wet too. Warm and wet. Is that what climate change has in-store for us in the south of England? Dull British winter weather is grey with extra grey bits. It can be mighty depressing. Short days don’t help either. Gradually they are getting longer. If only the worst of winter wasn’t still to come.

Whiling the hours away in nose to tail traffic doesn’t help with spirts. The only consolation is to look out at the drama of the landscape and the storm all around. I tend to get stoical about the whole sufferance. I pity those who sit agitated at the wheel trying to squeeze one car length ahead by getting out of roundabouts faster than others. The constant stop-go of taillights is a sure sign of a driver’s irritation. Me, I try to cruise forward inch by inch using as little power as possible.

The idiocy of playing psychological games in heavy traffic makes me wonder if some drivers ought to have a licence. This happens when two lanes merge into one. Me, I obey the one and one rule. Traffic should weave together in fairness to everyone. One from the left and one from the right.

So, bye bye Storm Gerrit. Thanks for bringing the winter wind and rain. The important part of all this is that we got home safely. Later than expected by safe.

[1] https://www.metoffice.gov.uk/about-us/press-office/news/weather-and-climate/2023/storm-gerrit-named

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salisbury_Plain