My kind of parking line-up

Let the fun and Games begin...

London is currently insane. The traffic is by turns non-existent and appalling – I got stuck last week in a traffic jam I couldn’t get out of for 10 minutes. I was on a bicycle. 

There are far too many people around who aren’t familiar with driving on the left, and the offside Olympic lanes are just confusing the issue, because half the time, you’re allowed in them (according to the LED screens) and two blocks later it’s Games traffic only with a £150 fine. Also, you have to cut up the Olympic coaches in order to turn right. This requires nerves of steel.

I decided to avoid the opening ceremony and attendant traffic/ road closures/ crowds and took myself off to Somerset instead. All  was well until about Reading, whereafter traffic crawled. I filtered a bit, thanking the nice drivers who gave me space, and swearing under my breath at the ones who got in my way for no reason other than to annoy me because hell knows there was nothing they could gain by moving there. There was, eventually, an explanation - when the 3 lanes went down to 1 and I could see the truck in the ditch. And also the tow-crane thing attempting to lift it out. I sighed and when passing the accident didn't help the traffic much, got off the motorway to take the pretty A-roads. Which were choked with trucks and tourists and those who think mirrors are for decoration. And observations are for the weak. And halfway through a turn is a good time to indicate. And I must needs be some kind of hellion on speed with anger management issues when I get frustrated at being cut-up repeatedly and roar past at the earliest opportunity. Just to get away from all the emergency braking. 

In the end, I reached my destination in one piece, looking forward to the return trip already. Oh, yes. 

By the time I had to leave, the weather had turned grey and drizzly, and I anxiously checked  several times to figure out how much rain I would hit on the way home. And if it was worth setting out in my waterproofs and risking "boil-in-bag" syndrome or if I might be lucky. I took the risk and the quick way home, which meant I managed to avoid the actual rain (until London) but did get severely sprayed by wet roads. At one point, the road was so wet they had to bring the speed limit down to 40, and even then we were aquaplaning. No, not a strong enough word. Waterskiing. Should have been an Olympic event, that. 

I got back into London, damp shins drying nicely, and the rain came down and the traffic snarled up. The A4 was closed for a road cycling event. I heaved a large sigh (although I'd known this. I'd seen the signs on my way out of town. I am sufficiently literate to have read them and made the mental note. Wish I could say the same of half the other vehicles around). I slunk up a back way I know to join up with the A40, which is more convenient for my bike parking anyway. 

The weather continues to be typically British. Dry up, damn it! I want to go riding.