The more excellent among you may have heard me recount this tale on Radio Five's Danny Baker Show last Saturday morning. This is the full version which I planned to read out had I managed to get a word in...Bad drivers? Don't talk to me about bad drivers!
Let me recount my trip into an actual circle of HELL. This being, as you might have already guessed, Manchester.
For reasons far too complicated to explain, I got hold of some tickets for a Man United match at Old Trafford. Away end only, you understand, supporting the poor saps who were about to get a lesson in football from the legions of darkness.
The catch being that we had to get up early and drive up from the south coast with a chap called Brian.
I'd never met him before - the whole deal was done through a mutual friend called Geoff - and he trolled up in his Ford Fiesta and we set off, him driving, me reading the map, Geoff in the back offering bad advice.
It was as we headed north that he admitted after covering only about 20 miles in the first hour: "I don't drive on motorways."
Ah.
He wasn't particularly good at A-roads, either. Or taking my directions, all of which he patently ignored.
I should have noticed this on account of his devious plan of ignoring all road signs that said "M5 NORTH", veering off in the opposite direction as if they were sending his beloved Fiesta over a cliff.
"Turn left here," I said as Banbury disappeared very slowly in the rear-view mirror, followed by a desperate "Left... LEFT... LEFT!!!!!" as he turned right, anticipating a short-cut that would eventually resolve itself Northampton.
At three o'clock switched off the engine, got out and stretched his legs before declaring: "This is close enough."
We were alone in a car park.
A church car park.
A church car park in Coventry.
We had missed Old Trafford by a piffling 82 miles, and we turned round and headed back to Dorset.
We should be home in a couple of weeks.
14 comments:
A mutual fried 'what' called Geoff? Are you in the habit of naming your oil-infused takeaways?
And don't try and edit it whilst claiming I'm a mad old woman. I have teh PHOTOS.
Second like a Bat out of Hull.
I went to that there Manchester once. Why is it so far from the motorway?
Nearest I get to the bad place is the airport - and that's too close...
I am not mad. I am not an old woman.
Not the first time you got sent to Coventry, I suspect.
Also, tip - Manchester is riddled with canals, so next time hitch a ride on a narrowboat; it will be quicker.
I did indeed have a significant LOL. Well done Mr S Duck. Well done.
Brian's dad, perchance?
http://www.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUSTRE5AH48D20091118?feedType=RSS&feedName=oddlyEnoughNews&utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+reuters%2FoddlyEnoughNews+%28News+%2F+US+%2F+Oddly+Enough%29&utm_content=Google+International
Wow. Sounds like a driver with issues.
Debster - I live near Manchester and avoid it like the plague. Far from it being so far from a motorway, it has more motorways in, out and around it than virtually any other place I know. 56 to th'airport, 60 (the orbital), 61, 62, 66, 67 and 602 into the centre and almost to the Theatre of Dreams and the A627(M) and for those familiar with Radio 2 traffic reports, the confluence of the 60, 62 and 602 forms the Eccles Interchange. Don't go anywhere near it while the sun's up. It just gives the impression that it's far from main roads because the signage is crap.
When you get back, there's a party going on over at my place.
Everyone else is invited as well of course.
Just don't get a lift from that Brian else you'll never get there and you'll miss out on the pizza, cake and beer and so.
Rule 1 when having to be chauffeured. Always plan to arrive a couple of hours early.
Sounds like brian had trouble telling his left from his right, perhaps you could have considered writing L and R on his hands.
At least it's a sight better than being a passenger being driven by crazy, madman whom by the way is also ADD/ADHD! No, don't ask! but will accept donations of money for a car of my own.
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