Personal

Eight miles per hour

The crash was bad. It closed a key motorway junction, pushing traffic onto my usual route to work. The refugee drivers headed north towards and acknowledged over-worked junction with the additional joy of major roadworks. Is it a surprise another accident happened?

And so it came to pass that I spent one hour in the fast lane of a dual-carriageway with my engine turned off. The driver of the car in front of me fell asleep while we waited for the traffic to move.

Today's statistics: twenty miles in two and a half hours. Eight miles per hour. Quicker than walking, but I'm glad I won't be doing this journey for much longer.