One way or the Other!

If you talk to any professional driver, he or she will confirm that there are at least two ways of getting anywhere.  Usually they will allege that whichever is their preferred route is the 'only good way' to go, and that all the others are of less quality, not so enjoyable, much slower, fraught with unruly traffic, or somesuch.  So, 'What about you?' I hear you thinking.  Of course I'm no different, but I like to think any opinion I might express is based on my own experience, and not simply a reflection of others' opinions. 

You may have noticed that it's some while since I last posted something here.  So many factors have contributed to this that I can't remember them all, but one reason is the fact of losing the use of three consecutive evenings last week because of a succession of jobs that were either late or long.  I was disturbed by the phone last Wednesday just as I was moving from prayer-time to breakfast, when my controller called to ask me to collect an urgent job for delivery in Edinburgh by 5.0pm.  The collection point was almost an hour in the opposite direction, and it's an indication of the degree of flexibility (or lack of it!) in this time frame that despite travelling directly there, stopping only for 'natural' breaks, I made it by 4.30.  There were accidents and horse-drawn carriages to delay me, and also those inevitable queues that are ... just queues.  They disperse as easily as they appear in front of you.

After this, I was glad to enjoy the peaceful reverie of a slower return on what I would describe as a 'good' road, returning by way of Coldstream, Morpeth and the A1.  As I did so, I realised that the distance from Edinburgh to the A1 at Morpeth is little different from a journey I'd made recently from the port at Stranraer to the M74 at Gretna.  Predictably, the time taken for each trip is about the same as well: around 2 hours for just under 100 miles.  So how was it, then, that this run homewards from Edinburgh was so much more enjoyable?  For one thing, there was no pressure.  I knew that the time I got home would make little difference to the outline of the next few days - I would sleep as long as my body wanted, then go to the office to see what might lay next in store.  By contrast, that journey from Stranraer had been in daytime; I was anxious to get home to deal with my post and admin and get to bed at a 'normal' bedtime.

Then there's the difference in the surroundings.  My route last week took me along open vistas, lovely straight roads with rolling hills on either side, and lots of sheep and cows to occupy my interest.  For part of it, too, I was travelling through the area where I'd enjoyed a relaxing summer holiday last year, so some of the views carried with them a feeling totally divorced from my present reason for being there.  The road in from Stranraer is always associated with a journey home from Ireland, and there's an accompanying resentment at the use of this route instead of that via Holyhead, which is shorter, and therefore quicker, and offers the refreshment of a sleep on the ferry as well. 

In the context of the present comparison, the Stranraer road seems always to have a lot of traffic, and there are very few places to overtake with any degree of safety.  To be fair, the views are sometimes interesting but the road seems to be quite tree-lined (although I'm open to be proved wrong about this, since it's quite possible that my prejudice causes me only to remember the tree-lined stretches,) and the glimpses of Wigtown Bay and the Solway Firth, though pleasant, are only partially and intermittently visible.

So, be prepared to question what you hear of the 'Best Way to Go.'  It's a concept often open to distortion, and not just by traffic conditions.  The time of day, personal histories - and sometimes just plain prejudice - can all play a part in its defining.