Last week, I had the privilege of witnessing the circle of life. On Thursday I travelled to the UK to say goodbye to an uncle 78 years of age. Then travelled late on Friday night back home to celebrate the christening of my granddaughter of 11 weeks on Saturday afternoon.
The journey from the boat on Thursday evening to our destination in the UK was interesting to say the least. It passed somewhat smoothly with no delays. I was a passenger in a car with the Driver and three others. I was in the back seat in the middle, a place I am not used to. I drive but I prefer to be a passenger, a co pilot if needed. All through the journey I felt I was driving the car but it was not under my control. I resorted to closing my eyes and my fellow passengers thought I slept soundly through the journey. The roads over yonder are very busy. It reminded me of a time 2 years ago when I was co pilot travelling down to the south of France on the motorway. All you could see was truck after truck, at one stage I counted 12 that we had to overtake before we could pull over to the slow lane. And while being in the front passenger seat in France in an Irish car, you feel you are the driver as you are on the other side of the road. On the UK motorway last Thursday night there was truck after truck and this was a bit like the French experience. Thankfully, we arrived safely at our destination in just under three hours.
It was a different story on the way back. We left in good time as we thought. Also on advice of the locals we took a different route that would shave off some of the motorway journey. It was Friday afternoon and that is rush hour. We landed on the M6 and crawled sixty miles in two and half hours. This was very frustrating, 3 lanes and each one as packed as another. How do they do this week in week out. The radio was on and they were giving updates every 30 minutes, about this junction, that motorway etc. It just seemed that there were backlogs everywhere all over the country. There was only one accident in all these reports, everything else was just congestion. Give me the M50 any day, we cannot complain at all. When we got off the M6 and onto the road leading to the port, it was not all plain sailing or driving for that matter. More congestion, but moving at a faster pace. It took us two and half hours to get there the day before and now we were over two and a half hours and nowhere near the ferry. I don’t know how but we made it in time, just about. We were the last car onto the boat as the doors closed behind us. Four and a half hours travelling in a car, sometimes stopped in traffic jams, sometimes flying past trucks. I kept my head down and my eyes closed and contemplated the circle of life.