nicad
Posts: 54
Joined: 7/7/2007
From: Southsea, Portsmouth Near The Old Vic
Status: offline
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This is a true story, which I publish in a good cause. See below.
OK it is also a Dom's Rant, but every word is true. I wrote this at 5.30am on Thursday 2nd December 2010. Read it instead of joining the carnage on the roads today, especially the bit at the bottom!
I have just returned, surprisingly safely, home from a 24 hour road trip to Belgium driven by a ditzy blonde which included a tour all round South East England twice and also encompassed a bit of France and then Belgium as well. All I wanted was a few fags!
At about 5am on Wednesday I called her and said I thought we should postpone our trip. I had, during the previous 24 hours, as a matter of sensible caution, compared predicted preciptation in the Met Office simulated weather radar image forecast, updated every half hour, with the actual radar data an hour or so later. This can be easily done on the internet, and on this occasion it was very clear that the forecast was mistaken and was underestimatng the amount of snow. I predicted heavy snow across most of south east england and elsewhere from this information.
I fail to understand how the Met Office could forget to make this simple comparison between the two data sets in order to tighten up on their accuracy. It's not rocket science. Admittedly they did have a severe weather warning in force.
But unfortunately, many people ignored it because they are so used to the UK authorities "crying wolf", by suggesting, for example, that you will die a horrible death if you have more than a thimble full of alcohol a day, which we all know is bollocks. And choosing a bend in the road like the one at Mickleham, Surrey, where on even a damp day, you can go round it at 70mph, then setting an advisory maximum of 50mph years ago then changing that to a speed limit "due to all the crashes" that in fact happen a quarter of a mile away due to teenage stupidity, and putting a camera past the bend in order to make some money from all the people who successfully pass the accident zone without incident at a sensible speed.
It is sad when the UK authorities seem to assume that we are all as thick as shit and need a nanny state to look after our every day decisions that affect nobody else but ourselves, they bring their silly regulations into great disrepute. Who's business is it of theirs what shape our banannas are or whether I like a nice big fried pork chop with an attached piece of kidney and the rind on? Nobody ever died of eating one just because it had a bit of kidney on it! I use a proper butcher and just get him to do it in secret.
But I digress. My ditzy blonde had left her phone off and was absolutely certain that we would have an easy trip.
So she turned up at 5.30am GMT on Wednesday 1st Dec at my home in Portsmouth. I pointed out the snow on the ground and mentioned my thoughts, but she was looking forward to the trip and I hate to disappoint a lady. And I did want some fags! I assumed we wouldn't get far and considered it an adventure.
My Ditzy Blonde drove me like a trooper for 24 hours and never complained once about anything except the stupid things we encountered on our journey.
We were treated with the sight of some of the most unappealing parking I have ever seen, including cars parked at 90 degrees to the direction of travel with no wheels on the ground half way up a bank, cars in trees, cars apparently attempting to reproduce, and one poor fellow seemed to have been trying to see if his articulated truck could get it's head end to enter it's rear end, but clearly forgot that parked vehicles are supposed to keep all their wheelies on the ground however many they have! Oh I suppose it's OK to lift a few if you want to give your tyres a rest!
We arrived at Dover a few minutes late due to the snow and the fact that the M25 hadn't been gritted, and were told that the next Ferry was at 11.30am. When it didn't arrive, an announcememt was made by Sea France at about midday that the ship had broken down at Calais. We were told that the next ferry would be at 2.30pm. Our return ferry was booked for 5.30pm Central European time, so we asked the Sea France people to book us on the 7.30pm Ferry, to give us time to get to Belgium and find fags, which they did. They took our boarding pass away and promised to return with the new booking. By 3pm no ferry had appeared, nor our boarding pass. Eventually a Sea France ferry docked and began to unload, and just before we were ushered on board, a nice lady brought our pass back and assured us that we were now booked on the 7.30pm ferry back. This gave us an hour and a half to drive 60km, find fags, and return to Calais for the return journey.
The crossing was uneventful, though half the ship was closed off and it seemed rather empty. It was dirty and scruffy and the only beer available was "wife beater" lager, and the bar staff ignored English passengers until they had served all the French ones, regardless of the time of arrival at the bar or their good manners. At Calais, the "broken down ship" seemed to have mysteriously disappeared.
We were one of the first off and drove rapidly to Belguim where we found what we wanted.
We rushed back to Calais to catch the 7.30 boat, only to be told that we were booked on the 9.30 boat. I queried this and was told "Oh yes, but it is 2 hours late".
When it eventually arrived at about 10pm, the few cars there were boarded along with quite a few trucks. Again the journey was uneventual apart from a gentle rocking motion which I rather enjoyed but which caused my ditzy blonde to turn a little green.
I noticed the strange similarity between the evening boat and the afternoon one. The same stinky toilets, the same peeling paintwork down to the last scratch and rust patch, the same ill stocked bar with inattentive bar staff, the same badly ballanced bow thrusters, the same closed off decks, etc.
I consumed 3 more pints of "wife beater", noticed that it caused me no need to beat anybody at all, nor did it affect my sea legs, and polluted the channel air with a few cigarettes, accompanied by a large number of eastern European sounding people, and my ditzy blonde and I returned to the car to disembark and begin our second tour of South East England.
I mused about the similarity between the outward and return crossings, and the fact that the advertised service was about every 2 hours, and yet the reality seemed otherwise. Clearly their had never been a 7.30 boat, the check in clerk didn't seem to know of one, yet we had been promised a booking on it. I concluded that Sea France were only actually running one ferry that day, and appeared to be advertising a service they had no intention of providing at the appointed times, and simply lied about it.
I shall choose another shipping line next time who keep their word and tell the truth.
Now I had noticed when we arrived on the continent, with an alleged air temperature of minus 8 degrees centigrade, that most of the country was covered in snow, all except one field which was mysteriously green, and the roads, which were all tarmacadam coloured. In Belgium, while I returned the "wife beater" to the continental soil it belonged on, a quater of an inch of snow suddenly fell so we decided to get back to Calias before it got too bad, especially since it was rush hour. As it happened, the snow seemed to mysteriously not cause any problems with the continental roads. Snow ploughs were out and grit was spread on all but very minor roads.
On the contrary, the roads in England, where the temperature was between zero and minus three were all but impassible, with from around 6 to 10 inches of snow covering them. One would have expected that the higways agency would have made sure to keep the most important roads at least free of snow, but I travelled on several of the most important roads in South East England including the London Orbital M25 and the Main Route to the Continent M20 (which was by evening turned into a lorry park southbound) and found that on 1st December, the highways agency appeared to have declared a unilateral bank holiday and gone to play with their computers instead of clearing the roads.
I noted with relief that some kind amateurs, just what I assume were a few hardy volunteers, who cared about their country, had come out with snowploughs and grit to try to clear one or two short strecthes of road, but it was clear that we had been largely abandoned to our fate and I predict the usual chaos as the rush hour starts today.
I travelled the A3 from the A27 to the M25 and back, the M25 between Juction 10 and the M20, and the length of the M20 plus a few miles of the M27/A27. No serious attempt had been made to clear them and I only saw about 3 or 4 snow ploughs all day, where as on the continent, there were plenty in just a 60km drive which appeared as soon as snow began to fall again.
Our kind amatuer volunteers, sadly did not understand that a snow plough has to be close to the road surface to remove the snow, and had them set about 2 or 3 inches above it, so the few we encountered provided little more than useful tracks to follow from their heavy vehicles. It also seemed probable that they had purchased their salted grit from one Arthur Daily, who in turn had bought a job lot of a few hundred thousand tons from a mafia run street cleaning company in Moscow who had been wondering how to sell all the used grit and slush they collected and had kept it in a cold store to make sure that the slushy stuff didn't melt before they could sell it. Now only an amatuer would forget to stick their finger in and see what it was like before purchasing! And three grit particles per cubic metre is just not enough when your "salt" has melted!
I predict the usual carnage on our streets in Pompey today as the idiots rev their engines and spin their wheels, sliding and crashing into anything in their path. I advise the dear reader not to venture on the roads in this weather until the govenment pulls their finger out and buys one or two snow ploughs and some proper salted grit. What happened to all those roadside bins we used to have in the 1960s on every side road? Snow tyres can come in handy too, not just for country folk.
I'm glad my ditzy blonde could actually drive and wasn't really so ditzy at all!
Now the snow reminds me of the Xmas season, so let us celebrate and do something else the government couldn't get their act together to do properly:
Help for Heroes!
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Our Charity Xmas Fetish Party is on at The Old Vic Next Friday, 10th December!
Call or email nicad or go to our web site for tickets and further details! Tickets are limited in mumber and must be paid in advance.
http://www.southdownsbdsm.co.uk/xmas/
I am lining up some rather stimulating entertainment to raise some money for Help for Heroes on the night! Further announcements in the next day or so! All proceeds from the party go to the charity.
So come along and have a great time! 8.30pm until the early hours. Dress code fetish or smart.
Please feel free to copy and repost elsewhere.
David.
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Pansexual, Polyamorous, Naturist, Sensualist Dom
http://www.southdownsbdsm.co.uk/public_profiles/david/
Location: Portsmouth, UK, near The Old Vic
South Downs Munch
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Don't go out today it is snowing! Britain is Broken Dow... - 
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RE: Don't go out today it is snowing! Britain is Broken... - 
didnt read all OP but you might have forgotten the ridicioulus condition of footpaths...as in other countries citizens are required to clear them and to keep them slippery free, not of course in the UK as that would be way too much responsibility given to the citizens...
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