Those that know me well will know that, although I have the cranial capacity of a pidgeon I have none of the homing or directional instinct. I can get lost at the end of my road (which is… down there… somewhere… ish) and many’s the trip when Miss and I have enjoyed full and frank exchanges of view on the wonders of motor assisted orienteering. Last week was the final straw.
I went straight from the Druid weekend at Anglesey to Nottingham on the first weeks training of a NEBOSH Certificate. Fun, fun, fun. And it started so well…
Driving from Anglesey to Nottingham is pretty much a horizontal cut across country, west to east. Unfortunately, the roads all spider out from the major conurbations, resulting in several leaps from one road to the next. Which is fine, if you have that instinctive sense of direction. It’s not even too bad if you can see the setting sun in your rear view mirror.
It’s not great at night.
In the rain.
After an hour and a half of standstill traffic on the A55 Expressway.
Driving in the dark, in the rain, tired and not a little night-blind, trying to hold a map up to the interior light with one hand while steering with the other is not recommended. Just don’t.
So today I took delivery of a Tom Tom One V2 UK. I already love it and I’ve done little more than switch it on and fit the suction holder onto the windscreen. I’ve an all-nighter fixing a fibre cable fault in south Wales tonight, at a location I’ve not been to in ten years, and I’m quietly confident of reaching there before midnight (or alternatively, as the tales regarding sat-nav helpfully explain, finding myself up a dirt track that peeters out to rock and mud…)
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