On the road to nowhere
No thanks to that fucker Roger though.
If you look at a map of France and try to plot a route from Anger to Caen, there are two obvious routes. The East route is via the motorway which is very fast and very bloody boring. To the West there is an alternate route using the Route Nationales, which are really motorways in all but name. Now which route do you think Roger chose?
He chose neither.
For some reason which I cannot fathom he decided to compromise and bring us on a route between the two.
I presume this was his warped sense of humour but in fact it backfired on him as we had a very pleasant trip meandering along back roads and passing through very beautiful villages. We stopped off in one of the towns for a very nice cuppa coffee [or three], and eventually arrived in Caen.
I thought that would be the end of it.
I was wrong.
Without thinking I let Roger do the navigation after we arrived in Ireland. Fucking hell, but he did it again. I have no idea what got into him, but before long we were driving down roads that had grass growing down the middle. Other roads obviously hadn’t been repaired in the last fifty years. I constantly had visions of us arriving at a farm gate with no further progress. He did eventually bring us back to the N11 somewhere around Gorey, after showing us some parts of Ireland I never knew existed.
We arrived in the end, but I’m still not quite sure how.
I’m going to have to have severe words with Roger before the next trip.
If there is a next trip.
Glad to hear you made it back despite the efforts of Roger to leave you stranded in an abandoned cow pasture. Nothing much has happened in the world since you’ve been gone. Same old petty BS slung around by the same old petty human beings as when you left. I’ve sworn off reading the news during your absence, by the way–too damn depressing.
Hope the weather in your parts of the world is decent for a few days anyway. You’ll probably need a few sunny, relaxing days to recover from your holiday.
Oh there will be another trip! We already know where you’re going.
Kirk M – I have the same attitude to the news here. I tried to bring some sunshine back, but it got lost somewhere around the south coast. Now all we have are the usual cloudy skies. I’ll miss the drop of warmth.
The CIA – Do you? Where?
You have been away a while and the Euro is dying so perhaps grass down the middle of the roads is the new ‘normal’.
GD, “grass down the middle of the roads”, The new austerity motorways. After what fuckwit Leo Vradker (or however the cunt spells it) plans to do tolling every inch of road, they are all we will be left with.
Pam Pilot (like your Roger) has often fucked over simple instructions too. She had me going around in circles in Torremolinos last year. She kept telling me to turn left, bitch. I warned her I’d have to consult her nine sisters if she kept fucking up. Eventually, I just ignored the bitch and she saw the error of her ways and showed me the way to go home.
It’s a mere 120 miles. Fire Roger and get a map.
We paid perfectly good money, well now that I think about it it was Euros which many not be that good of money, so Roger would lead Grandad astray. Of course he goes pretty far astray already.
Bill & Slab – Just caught up on the Irish news. It looks like Roger may be right after all. If he is to keep me off those fucking toll roads, he’ll be worth his weight in gold!
TT – In fairness to him, he knew more about roads in the Loire region than even the largest scale Michelin maps. The road to our place wasn’t shown at all.
Jim C – Be careful now………..
The Satnav system is only as good as the updating that humans are supposed to give the system. I travelled with friends to England a year ago and the system, with a woman’s voice, was courteous and efficient in England. Only problem was when we returned to Rosslare the directions became confused somewhere between Kilkenny and Naas, and we temporarily found ourselves driving on a piece of road that had not yet been opened to public traffic! Thank goodness it was a Sunday and we didn’t plough into an earthmover. I think it’s more fun to read road maps. I don’t like electronic voices on fancy machines anyway. They’re so impersonal you can’t hear them snigger when you drive astray.
You surfaced near Gorey !! Dear god – I hope you avoided it like the plague ! You’d be liable to catch that as well.