25th September 2019
The worst thing you can do is let your brain drive on automatic.
I planned to visit my friend Dave in Melksham, so the drive up from Barrington I’ve done so many times I could do it in my sleep, or so I thought.
The drive towards Shepton Mallet is straight forward, little chance of getting lost on that road. Skirting around the town is also no problem, no need to engage brain here.
A little further on I was behind an articulated lorry that slowed the pace down a bit. As always I wished it would turn off to give me a clear road.
We got to a roundabout and the truck did not take the turning I was expecting him to take.
Yay! I thought, as I took the first turning.
I kept driving, my mind thinking about everything other than the direction I was going.
Suddenly I came to a tee junction, and my brain re-engaged normal function.
“What’s going on here? There is no junction on this road”
Realisation dawned on me, that the truck was taking the turning I should have taken.
Should I turn round? Maybe if I found a place I could do it. Could I find a place to turn round? I must have been on the only stretch of road in the whole of Britain that had nowhere to turn, and when one suddenly appeared, I was going too fast, and missed it.
It was then that I decided to carry on and navigate through the town of Frome. Not a big place, I thought, but again I was wrong.
I was using my amazing sense of direction, which that in this case was fatally flawed. I ended up heading towards Radstock, which was in the opposite direction.
“There’s bound to be a turning that would get me back to the direction I needed to go” I thought.
It must have been on the only road in Britain that didn’t have a right hand turning to get me back on track.
Now Radstock is a pleasant town, but I didn’t want to experience it, so this is when I had to turn round and retrace my steps.
Eventually I crossed the junction I would have reached if I hadn’t made the diversion, that must have cost me an extra fifteen minutes to my journey.
I then passed the truck that I was stuck behind in the first place. It had stopped in a lay-by, and the driver had time to have his bacon roll and was slurping down his mug of tea, as I passed.
The rest of the journey was uneventful, although as I approached Melksham, the skies darkened and the birds were deliberately throwing themselves at approaching cars. I’ve always had a problem with the place, and I was never put my finger on the reason. I was told the only books in the library were in large print, and that the local planners were waiting for Armageddon to help improve the place, what ever happens I hope they wait until after I’ve left it.
Another Lifetime to go 