Scotland 2021 Pt2. M6 See A Sign For Glasgow Turn Left. Easy.

The world of tomorrow, cut short. 

Theres a Russian expression from the Soviet era  We wanted it to be different, it happened just the same  

A statement of intent :

 Casting this blog’s fine tradition to one side there is little or no spontaneity to this tale. Even the pseudo spontaneity of middle class professionals was brutally stamped out. Bookings were made weeks in advance  and the departure time set in stone.There will be none of the usual struggles with escape velocity

A statement of fact: 

No plan survives contact with the enemy, the Viking or The planning department 

What actually happened was the usual debacle, I've had a seriously interrupted sleep only to find, no cabs, back to sleep, now really late  

instead of the usual highly entertaining Nigerian communists who are my regular uber drivers, by using another service I seem to have opened a pandoras box of misery which i have to listen to for the hour it takes to get there another hour of it and the driver and I would be entering into a suicide pact  not a happy camper  

West London

I meet the Viking on his doorstep, Mrs Viking is there too, looks like she’d rather be in bed, The Viking cheerily announces that we’re dropping her off at her yard. 

If i were a Spanish woman i would have shouted “;you’re a mental nobia estación de tren, finito” but I'm English so it was a cherry “no problem “  

the Viking who travels by train, clearly has a very limited understanding of the geography and road network of southern England  Mrs Viking lives in Reading  

Mrs Viking has a look on her face that says “Sorry, i know this is ridiculous, but hes not having the best week, and he’s trying to be chivalrous, sorry”

The main road north from london the M1 Britian’s first motorway is about ten minutes drive away, Reading an hour away to the west   Off we trundle  it’s Saturday morning of course there’s traffic. We drop her off, fight our way out of Reading. On to the road north-ish every species of middle class wanker in a 4x4 is represented in the traffic either dawdling in front or wildly changing lanes.  The second time i give the anchors a  hearty stab the load audibly shifts in the back I develop the strong kinaesthesia racing drivers have with their tyres, but mine is with both the Money Pit and my Browning which are foolishly stored in the same soft bag in the back.  Its not as though i don’t have several Peli cases. In my minds eye my scope is now dented, the stock splintered into firewood, and my barrel literally knotted like a pretzel. I feel sick  

At this point in the saga it would be great if there was an interlude to the roaring inconvenience of it all, but no. Its starts hammering down with rain. Somewhere between monsoon and biblical.

We decide to stop at a service station for breakfast, it’s actually not too awful. Things in the back of the truck aren’t great, we can open and close the door, but only just. Its a right tumble, so we rescue the shooters, ive brought a modest travelling sportsman’s battery, The Viking seems to have a cased example of every iteration of shotgun design in the last 150 years, we now have no space in the cab at all  my seat is so far forward that only the seatbelt stops me from nutting the windscreen  the upside to which is i can now wipe the condensation from it and occasionally see a little more than the taillights ahead  

We pull out of the slip road rejoining the motorway and join the que of stationary traffic. Bollox. 

Two and a half hours later i venture  tentatively into second gear, then with my heart in my throat, third, forth, and we’re rolling! The Viking celebrates by dozing off  Just me the road, and the intermittent sound of Radio 4, a station for muddle class people who aren’t  yet depressed enough about the state of the world  

The weather is now so bad even Audi drivers are keeping to the speed limit  Rain is overwhelming the wipers, the wind has really picked up. The van rocks from side to side a bit but nothing our payload doesn’t  counter act. A woman with a RADA-northern accent has just investigated the affect climate change will have on teenage girls who forgo university to be Tabla player in the punjabi wedding bands of the West Midlands. I’m steering with one hand and trying to pick the smug out of my ear with the other, a program about the history of the Duffle coat is about to begin, when the Viking awakens. 

To give him his due ges a tower of good cheer and sets about DJing a Bardcore set, where contemporary pop music is performed in monastic style   We then have a great chat about the routine racism of the 1980’s workplace  I'm about 20 years older than him and its great to hear that he’s totally unfamiliar with things that where once commonplace  Thankfully neither of us wishes to discuss football, he's kind enough to feign interest in the socio economic factors that lead up to the Spanish civil war, unfortunately we are not able to discuss the design history of Porsche 1967-1973 as South Side D isn't with us  so we do a quick lap of the calibre debate, shot placement on a Great Dane etc and its time for lunch  

So much for Fat Nav taking us the the fabled Cantina but we do get to visit the legendary Forton Services  

In a way a perfect explanation of the post war ambition of a few visionaries, shot down by the usual provincial NIMBYs determined to stamp out an irrational exuberance. Large part of why we are such an awful country 

 Sir Thomas Bennett, Founder of the practice TP Bennet  & Sons  saw the site, almost equidistant between london and Edinburgh both as a way point and a destination for local people. The tower is cleverly designed to need the bare minimum of internal support so it’s internal spaces can be easily reconfigured.despite his obvious interest in brutalism he was a believer in the ethos of the arts and crafts movement and held life drawing classes during lunch breaks  obviously you'll know a true genius as the dunces will be In confederacy against him, so the IMBY’s had him reduce the height from 30 meters to 20  

Although a listed building these days its all looking a bit shabby, i was hoping for hearty northern fare served up by feisty northern birds, you know where Abagondas di campo are still called Faggots. the only food on offer was McDonalds and on our visit the view was closed due to inclement weather   Perfect symbol of Britain 1945 to Date  

Fed and watered with the half way point under his belt the Viking falls back into the arms of Morpheus and i drown out his snoring with a visit to local radio. Theres a phone in about the economic chaos wrought by covid x Brexit People who phone in are clinging to scraps: they talk of pride, tradition ect, and are seemingly baffled that our prime minister is a member of the london elite, who told them he wasn’t a member of the london elite, and has turned out to be….

Every so often someone whoo actually does things, owns a fishing boat, factory or logistics firm will demand to know how they are supposed to fulfil their social contract with their community  The programs presenter then has do do some kind of verbal quick step, falling short of both agreeing with the bleeding obvious and denouncing the head of the chamber of commerce as a Trotskyite  

As Robert Anton Wilson and his pal George Carlin would have pointed out, if you give your groceries to a gang of monkeys all you’ll get back is rocks and monkey shite.

I was very excited about driving a panel van full of shooters over Shap, the highest road in England but the satnav rerouted us and i wasn’t about to stop and sightsee in the growing gloom. 

As we cross into Scotland the rain suddenly abates without the clouds we get another twenty minutes of daylight 

On we trundle, into the night. 

Join us next time as The Viking and SBW finally arrive in EKB, meet The Master At Arms, and open the door to schrodinger's panel van. 

More soon

Your pal

            SBW