Photographs for week ending 26 October 2014

This week's offering of the daily photographs I have posted to Twitter and Facebook. They are in chronological, date order.

You will notice that there are eight images as I have decided to make Sunday the week-end day from now on.

I was trying to think of a title for this conceptual photograph, at the same time listening to Lou Bega's version of Mambo 5, when it came to me.

'A little bit of mono-colour from sunlight'.

Gayle Beck, Hawes, Wensleydale, North Yorkshire, UK.

Following reports that no one had seen Mr Santa Claus for approximately 10 months we discovered him this morning (26 October 2014) sleeping rough in Orihuela Costa, Costa Blanca, Spain.

Just click on any image to enlarge it.

© Elliot Sampford

Photograph gallery for week-ending 11th October 2014.

This week's offering of the daily photographs I have posted to Twitter and Facebook. The first was put on last Sunday, 5th October, and are here in date order.

Sombra de Muchos Grises

Le Viaduc du Millau (at dusk)

 Click on a photograph to enlarge it.


© Elliot Sampford

My Photographs of the Week on Twitter and Facebook.

I am trying something new – for me that is – I am posting a daily photograph to Twitter and Facebook.

The first was put on last Sunday, 14th September, and are here in chronological order.

Thursday 18th September 2014

All together now "It's beh........"

I hope you enjoyed looking at this first week's effort. Don't forget you can click on any photograph to see an enlarged view. I've had some frustrating times trying to master different photo-editing programs but I think I'm getting better.

Of course I have set myself a problem - do I have enough varied photographs for future weeks.

© Elliot Sampford

Illegally or Inconsiderately Parked?

Parked on 31st July 2014

Was the blue car, on the right, parked illegally or inconsiderately – or is it a combination of both these options - or neither? What do you think?

The vehicle has often been parked on this spot, which is within a staggered junction of three roads (one a thoroughfare and two residential cul-de-sacs). Its two nearside wheels are on the pavement and the two rear wheels on a traffic speed restriction hump. The location is in Lincolnshire.

The car was parked directly opposite the B of Burghley Square
 

Illegally parked?

Rule 244 of the Highway Code states:

You MUST NOT park partially or wholly on the pavement in London, and should not do so elsewhere unless signs permit it. Parking on the pavement can obstruct and seriously inconvenience pedestrians, people in wheelchairs or with visual impairments and people with prams or pushchairs (Law GL(GP)A sect 15)'.

In the Highway Code where it states 'MUST NOT' the instruction given is subject, covered by a Law, which is referred to in the parenthesis. Note that this relates only to the London area; it does not apply to on-street-parking in other counties within the United Kingdom.

The move towards Decriminalised Parking Enforcement (DPE) allows the responsibility for enforcing parking contraventions to be transferred from the police to local councils. The Road Traffic Act 1991 and Traffic Management Act 2004 authorised the option of councils to assume the responsibility and powers needed for parking enforcement within their areas. One of the aims of DPE, or CPE (Civil Parking Enforcement) as it's also referred to, was to change the majority of parking offences from a criminal offence – whereby a driver obtained a criminal record and points on a licence – to a civil matter dealt with by the issue of a financial penalty via a Penalty Charge Notice (PCN) – no points and no criminal record.

Lincolnshire County Council assumed the powers of CPE in December 2012.

I wrote to the Parking Services department of the council asking for clarification of the policy, within Lincolnshire, with regards to vehicles being parked, with one or more wheels, on the pavement in areas that are not subject to regulations of yellow lines, parking bays etc.

I received the following reply:

'Unfortunately for any vehicle parked on the street where there are no parking restrictions, we would not be able to issue a penalty charge notice. Under the legislation set down by government, there is no contravention for cars (though there is for HGV's) parking on the pavement, outside of Greater London. Therefore any vehicle would be free to park in this area or on the pavement/verge next to the street. If there are vehicles in question that are wilfully causing obstruction to traffic or pedestrians this would be a police matter, as there is no contravention for obstruction under civil parking enforcement.'

Parked on 3rd August 2014

This couldn't be clearer: the parking of a vehicle with its wheels on the pavement in areas not subject to parking restriction regulations is not in it self an illegal act.

But, is that the end of the matter – perhaps not.

Three of the points within Rule 243 of the Highway Code state:

DO NOT stop or park;

• opposite or within 10 metres (32 feet) of a junction, except in an authorised parking space
• opposite a traffic island or (if this would cause an obstruction) another parked vehicle
• where the kerb has been lowered to help wheelchair users and powered mobility vehicles'.

These points are not covered by an Act of Law and therefore are not in themselves illegal.

However, Rule 242 of the Highway code states:

'You MUST NOT leave your vehicle or trailer in a dangerous position or where it causes any unnecessary obstruction of the road (Laws RTA 1988, sect 22 & CUR reg 103)

Is it not feasible that failing to observe the recommendations of Rule 243 could result in a contravention within Rule 242. Within the letter from the LCC is the comment:'If there are vehicles in question that are wilfully causing obstruction to traffic or pedestrians this would be a police matter'.

The car was parked 'opposite …. of a junction' which is to the right; and 'within 10 metres (32 feet) of a junction' which is to the rear of the car. So, could this mean that parking it at that location was an illegal act, irrespective of the position of the wheels on the highway or the pavement?

Inconsiderately Parked?

An inconsiderate action can be defined as one that is thoughtless, heedless in consideration for others.

Was the driver of the blue car mindful as to any difficulty caused to drivers of vehicles exiting the residential square, to the south of the main road, because of the limitation of a reduced turning circle. Was any sympathy considered to the problems of reduce sight of oncoming traffic from the left (east) for traffic leaving the residential road to the north? Did the position of the parked car cause an increase in the potential danger to other road users, travelling on the thoroughfare, of vehicles exiting either of the two minor roads within the junction?

Was the driver considerate of the possible inconvenience or danger to pedestrians (with or without pushchair), wheel chair users or powered mobility vehicle users because of the restricted access to the pavement, or the drop-down-kerb incorporated in the traffic-hump?

Did the driver need to consider any consequences that his parking might have on other people?

Summary

The Lincolnshire County Council has stated that the parking of the vehicle on the pavement does not contravene any county regulations. Could the Lincolnshire Police consider an illegal act has occurred in accordance with Rule 242 of the Highway Code if they deem the vehicle to have been parked 'in a dangerous position or where it causes any unnecessary obstruction of the road'.

The question of whether the driver has acted in an inconsiderate manner is not in either of the authorities remit of responsibility. Who cares? Is it only in the thoughts of other road and pavement users for a brief moment as they pass the parked car?

What do you think of the driver's action? Should there be some sort of redress against drivers who park anywhere they want? Did the driver do anything wrong?

© Elliot Sampford 2014

Cars tailgating - or what?

I was sitting in our solarium when I noticed this example of driving in Spain.

The collapsed body - that was Mary!

It was a damp autumn Sunday morning. William and Mary were driving on the narrow B1723, through the Kent countryside, going down the twelve-hundred yard long steep incline towards the bend in the road, at the spot known locally as 'Carlton bottom', where it came out of Upper Carlton Wood. At this stretch of the road the trees either side of it were so close to each other that their canopy of branches met above the tarmac; forming the rib-cage of a tunnel. In the summer with a full compliment of leaves on the branches, if there was a cloud cover blocking the sun's full light, it was often necessary to put on the cars headlights to see the road clearly. It wasn't the case that morning as the fast majority of the leaves had been shed onto the ground. The black tarmac road was covered in patches by a mottled hue of yellow, brown, crimson, and golden leaves.

Although their journey to the hospital, to be with their three-year old daughter Samantha, was later than they had planned, William was being careful not to drive too fast, particularly on this stretch of the road. Experience had shown that at this time of the year, with the ground-level mist in the mornings the fallen leaves could impersonate black ice on the road's surface. The tightness of the bend where the B1723 exited the woods was deceptive: several non-local drivers had been caught unaware by the unmarked curve on this quiet country road.

As the car approached the bottom of the incline and the bend William selected a lower gear for the engine, rather than use the brakes, to slow the car a little more. As they safely followed the road to the left they couldn't fail to see the car ahead of them on the right-hand side verge. It was upside down in the ditch against the dense hedgerow.

William stopped his car on the left-hand grass verge, just beyond the crash scene, where there was enough space to get off the road. He and Mary got out of the car as quickly as they could and ran back across the road towards the upturned vehicle.

From the marks on the grass verge it looked as though the driver had misjudged the bend and the car had drifted three feet off the road towards the right. Unfortunately the offside wheels had dropped into the one foot wide concrete drainage gully; that ran for twenty-five yards along this part of the bend; that had been recently installed to eliminate the frequent flooding of the road at this point. The sudden drop of the right-hand side of the car, the gulley taking over control of it, and the g-force on that side of the vehicle because of the momentum of trying to turn left had then resulted in the car rolling onto its roof, possibly twice, and landing in the five feet wide, two feet deep, ditch in front of the substantial Hawthorn and Ash hedge. The car was positioned at a forty-five degree angle to the road. The front section, from the crumpled bonnet to the rear passenger doors, was lying in the ditch and the rear boot section pointing slightly upwards, resting on the side of the ditch furthest from the hedge.

Even in the position and at the angle it was; William recognised the wreckage as a beige 1982 Ford Cortina Mk. V Estate-car: he recognised the number plate even though it was the wrong way up. They had bought that same car when they first moved to the area to start up their smallholding twenty years before. They had used it daily for ten years until they sold it, as they thought for it to be scrapped.

Although it must have come from the same direction as them, they hadn't seen it in front of them at any time. As they ran towards the Cortina the signs were that the accident hadn't happened too long ago. There was steam and smoke rising from the bonnet area and the front wheel on the far side was still slowly rotating.

William was the first to get to the car, going straight away to the nearest front door. With the car being upside-down this was the driver's door. He could see a man, head down, being held in position by his seat belt. His head was against the window with blood running from a cut on his forehead. He didn't appear to be moving. William had to lie down on the grass to look into the car to see if there was anyone else inside: there was only the driver.

“Mary; call 999 and tell them about this,” William shouted, “tell them there's an injured man trapped inside. They need to send an ambulance plus the fire brigade, to cut him out.” Mary ran back to their car to use her mobile phone.

William could see that the driver's and rear doors on that side couldn't be opened, trapped by the bank of the ditch, so he went round the rear of it to try the doors on the other side.

He heard Mary shouting to him: “I can't get a signal neither on mine or your phone. I'm going to drive up to the top of the hill and try there.” With that said she was quickly in their car and driving to a better advantage height.

“OK, I'm going to try to get the driver out,” but Mary didn't hear him.

As soon as he got to the far side of the ditch he could see that the hedgerow was not going to let him open either of the doors. As he went around the rear of the car he thought he could smell petrol. He returned to the drivers door and was relieved to see some movement from the man.

William knocked on the window and shouted: “Hello in there. Can you hear me? Are you alright? Can you move? Are you hurt?” The only reply he received was murmurs and groans. “Hello in there. We've called 999, help should be here soon.” William knew, even though he said it, soon would be quite some time because of their isolated countryside location. “We'll get you out as quick as we can,” but there was no we, only William.

He had to get the driver released from his seat belt and out of the car. He considered smashing the window to reach in to free the driver, but the man's head was against it. He needed the man to help himself, but there was still no meaningful response. Continuing to knock hard on the glass he shouted; “Hello, Hey in the car, Hello, Can You Hear Me?”

In the silence whilst he waited for a reply, William was sure he could hear a crackling noise coming from the engine compartment area. It reminded him of a noise similar to that he often heard from the overhead electricity cables on the pylon near his and Mary's house.

“Help, help me somebody,” came a quiet, slow, slurred response from inside the car.

“Hey it's OK, I'm here and help is on its way,” William reassured the man.

“I can't move. Where am I?”

“You're in your car and you've had a slight accident. What's your name?”

“Brian.”

“I'm William, Brian, I'm going help you until the ambulance and fire brigade get here. My wife Mary has called them. Do you hurt anywhere?”

“All my chest and my right shoulder hurts, and a stabbing pain when I breath. Where am I?”

“You're upside down and suspended by your seat belt, can you undo it?”

After a pause: “No I can't reached the button, and it hurts too much to move.”

“That's OK if you open the window I'll reach in and release you.”

Another pause: “I can't find the handle. Oh God I hurt!”

“OK Brian it wont be too long now.”

William could hear a car's engine, he looked round, it was Mary returning. She was soon standing beside William. He stood up. “Are they coming?” he asked her quietly so Brian wouldn't hear; although he wouldn't have because the window was still shut.

“They're on their way, but it could be ten to fifteen more minutes because of the distance,” and after a short pause, “I can smell petrol.”

“I know so can I.”

“Will; what are we going to do?”

“I've got to try and release him from the seatbelt so we can get him out.”

Suddenly there was a loud pop from the front end. Smoke and a few flames could be seen in the engine compartment.

“Bloody hell! Mary run and get the fire extinguishers from the boot of our car.”

She ran back to their car as fast as she could, kicking of her stiletto high heel shoes as she went. She very quickly returned handing one of the two extinguishers to William. Without hesitation he pulled out the safety pin and squeezed the trigger handle. As soon as the foam started to spurt out he handed the extinguisher back to Mary. “Keep aiming it at where the flames are coming from,” he ordered Mary. He bent down to check on Brian.

“What was that bang?” Brian asked.

“Nothing to worry about.”

“I can smell petrol fumes! I can smell burning rubber! What's happening?”

“Don't worry; Mary's dealing with it; she's sorting it out.”

“You've got to help me get out of here! The car's on fire isn't it? I don't want to be burnt to death!”

“That's not going to happen.”

On cue Mary shouted: “It's out Will, it's out.”

“Problem sorted Brian,” William said as he stood-up to talk to Mary.

They stepped two paces away from the estate car. William summed up the situation: “We can't wait any longer. I've got to get him out now. The fire brigade and medics could be ages and if there's another fire before they get here, with all these petrol fumes around, that could be the end for Brian.”

“You'll have to leave it to them, they'll know what to do. You can't move him, it could injure him more.”

“I think I can get him out through the back door, it's the easiest way.”

“No William; it's too dangerous for you to go into the car. What if a fire starts again?”

“In that case that's why we have to get him out now! I know the inside of this Cortina back to front, I know what I've got to do.”

With that William went to the rear of the upside down car and pushed the rear door catch. To his relief the door started to fall open. The door's gas struts pushed it all the way open.

“Keep your eye on the engine compartment,” he shouted to Mary as he climbed in to the boot area, kneeling on the roof, which was now the floor.

“OK Brian I'm coming to get you out.”

“Hurry, please hurry, the petrol smell is getting worse. Oh God I hurt.”

William's first task was to get the backrest of the rear seat out of the way, to give him more room, so he could go forward. He knew it folded down and where the release catch was, but had to remember everything was the wrong way up. He pressed it but the backrest didn't move out the way; gravity was working against him; it just hung down loosely where it was. He needed to push it up and something to prop it up out of the way. Looking around on the ceiling there was a garden spade. He picked it up, used the blade to push the back-rest up and the handle end was forced against the roof to wedge it there.

He moved forward and was then behind the driver's seat. What was he to do next.

“OK Brian I'm behind you. Listen to me. I'm going to try to take some of your weight off the seatbelt so that I can release it. When I do, you'll slide down, and it will probably hurt a bit but it has to be done.”

He put his arm under Brian's left shoulder and was about to press the seatbelt release.

He heard Mary's shouting: “Will, Will, a fire has started again! Get out of there!”

“You've still got a bit left in the extinguisher and you've got the other one as well. Stop the fire Mary, put it out fast,” he yelled back.

“Hold on Brian here we go, we can't hang about”

The release catch was pressed. The belt was free. William couldn't support Brian enough so he fell, hitting his head on the roof.

“Aarrgghh!” Brian screamed.

William reached up and pulled the driver's seat backrest release lever. He pushed the back up, using the ratchet mechanism to hold it almost horizontal, to give him access to Brian and to give a clearer exit path. Brian dropped down further, he was now laid on his front, his left arm trapped under him, head to the rear of the car and feet against the dashboard.

“Aarrgghh!” he screamed.

“WILL, WILL, its not working I can't put it out! Get out of there, NOW!”

William and Brian knew that because they could smell burning. The engine compartment firewall would protect them for a while.

“Its now or never Brian, we've got to go.”

“Help me! Don't leave me! I don't want to die like this! Don't let me burn!”

William looked to the front of the car and could see the amber glow of flames through the shattered windscreen. His heart was thumping in his chest. He tried to get hold of Brian to pull him but Brian was laid on his front not on his back.

“Sorry, no time to discuss this” William said as he rolled him over onto his back. He knew it wasn't the right move to make, in case it caused complications to Brian's injuries, but the fire was the biggest complication.

“Aarrgghh!” was the only reply from Brian. He was on his back.

“Brian; listen to me. When I lift your shoulders and pull, you have to push like hell with your feet. Do you understand? Push like hell no matter how much it hurts. Here we go. One, two, three, PUSH!”

“Aarrgghh!” They'd moved about six inches.

“One, two, three, PUSH!”

“Aarrgghh!” They'd moved another nine inches.

Dragging Brian out was proving more difficult than William had thought it would be.

Mary had thrown the empty extinguishers away, they hadn't done their job. The engine area was engulfed in flames. She was running back and forth, from the fire to the rear of the car: William and Brian’s only way out.

“WILLIAM, GET OUT NOW. Leave him if you have to,” She screamed. She only used William when she was angry with him. How dare he put himself in such danger. How dare he jeopardise her and Samantha's future. She was angry and frightened.

Then she thought she'd heard the faint sound of a two tone siren in the distance. She was right; there it was growing louder as she listened. Then there was a second two tone to support the first. It sounded like a beautiful duet to Mary. The volume was increasing even more. She turned and looked up the road towards the woods and suddenly saw a flashing blue light. Then there was another. As the ambulance and fire engine entered the tunnel of trees these acted like a megaphone; the four tone duet became a cacophony of sound. Mary could hear the sirens shouting: “We're coming, nearly there, we're coming, nearly there; you're safe now, help is here, you're safe now, help is here.”

Inside the car William's repetitious command and Brian's painful response could still be heard. Mary turned back towards the car to tell the two of them that help was arriving now. There was a bright flash and a whoomph as the flames engulfed the outside of the car.

“NO, OH MY GOD NO!” she screamed.

Inside the Cortina, William could now hear the comforting sirens.

“Push Brian . . . one, two, push . . one, push: we're nearly out and the help has arrived.”

At that instance William saw a bright flash and a whoomph as the flames engulfed the outside of the car.

“I don't deserve to die like this,” he thought “I'm just trying to help somebody to live. I can't leave Mary and Samantha on their own. I refuse to die like this!”

He took a firmer grip of Brian and pulled with every bit of his tiring strength.

“If you don't want to be burnt to death Brian ignore the pain and push with your legs with all your might and keep on pushing.”

They were now in the boot area; so close to the rear door; and William accidentally dislodged the spade used to wedge up the rear seat backrest. The blade of the spade fell down onto Brian's chest whilst the backrest dropped down hitting William in the face. This stunned him for a moment, but he kept hold of Brian. He started to pull again and at last could feel his feet on the edge of the rear tailgate. He could feel the heat of the flames on his face and neck.

Suddenly he felt a power grab hold of him and start pulling him. “There are two of them.” a strange muffled voice shouted. William saw a pair of arms that weren't his take hold of Brian, pulling him as well.

He could feel and see foam being jetted over both of them. He felt a lot cooler. He could see the sky. He was being dragged away from the burning wreckage. He could see two beige robots with yellow heads and yellow cylinders on their backs carrying Brian. There was another bright vermilion ball of light and a very loud explosion.

Next morning when Mary and William, with his bandaged hand and a replica of a sun-burnt face, were driving past the crash site they saw that all that was left of the 1982 beige Ford Cortina Mk. V Estate-car was a charcoal coloured metal skeleton. Everything that could have burnt away had. The charred remains of the hedgerow stretching ten feet either side of the wreckage was testament to the intensity of the fire.

“That was nearly your crematorium: would have saved me funeral costs,” said Mary in a wry tone, belying her feelings about the previous day.

Four days after the crash, whilst visiting Samantha in hospital, William and Mary decided to visit Brian in his ward. When the police crash investigation constable had been to their home, two days after the accident to get a statement, they'd asked after Brian and were informed he was recovering in hospital and his full name.

“Hello Brian, I don't know if you remember me but we met in your upside-down car? This is my wife, Mary, and I'm William in case you've forgotten. I'm sorry if I hurt you or have caused you extra complications when I was helping you to get out.”

“That morning's still a bit hazy but I'll never forget you and what you did. The police tell me you saved my life.”

“What are your injuries?” Mary asked.

“A broken left collar bone, a fractured sternum, two fractured ribs, one broken rib, punctured lung, concussion, a small cut to my forehead and a few scorch marks. Nothing compared to death.” After a short pause he continued: “It probably would have been a fractured collar bone and three fractured ribs before William grabbed hold of me. A bit clumsy of him . . . but hey he gave me my life,” said Brian with a big smile on his face.

“Always glad to be of assistance” said William nonchalantly.

After a few more minutes of chat about Brian's recovery Mary said:” Come on Will it's time to go to Samantha.”

“We must go now Brian,” said William, adding: “we're off to be with our daughter, she's in the oncology ward upstairs.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, what's wrong with her, if you don't mind me knowing?” asked Brian.

“She has a Neuroblastoma, a type of cancer,” replied Mary.

They then went on to explain, in brief terms, more about it and the treatment Samantha was having. They explained to him that due to National Health Service funding restrictions she wasn't able to have the latest type of treatment available. The local Health Trust would not fund the treatment as it necessitated travelling out of the country. They told him about their fund raising campaign, 'The Samantha Hitchins Appeal Trust', so that they could pay for the special treatment themselves.

They got up to leave Brian to recuperate and as they were moving away from his bed he asked: “How much have you raised so far and how much more do you need?”

“So far we've managed £55,940 which leaves us approximately £45,000 more to raise in the next eight months otherwise it will possibly be too late for her,” said Mary, with a tightness developing in her chest and throat, and moisture in her eyes.

“Will you call in to see me the day after tomorrow, I'd like to give a donation to help Samantha's appeal.”

“You don't have to give anything, that's not why we mentioned it,” replied William.

“I know that, but please call in.”

They left to be with Samantha.

Two days later they called in to see Brian as he'd asked. They knew they were to be given a donation and didn't expect much, but every little bit could help them get vital treatment for Samantha. They assumed that as Brian had been driving the thirty-year old Ford Cortina Estate, that they had sold ten years previous when it was worse for wear and ready for scrapping, that money was probably a little scarce for him.

“High Brian, you're looking better today; well on the road for recovery we see,” said William.

“Hi you two, yes I'm feeling better each day, thanks for coming.”

“No thanks needed Brian, we are here everyday at the moment to be with Samantha,” said Mary.

“Yes they are; more than I can ever say.” Mary was about to say something but Brian put his hand up, with the palm facing her, like a policeman stopping traffic. “I won't keep you away from her for too long but there is something I need to say.” He thought for a few seconds and began: “When I was in the car and it caught on fire and you were trying to get me out, William, I thought I was going to die in a most horrific way. You could have left me, and if the roles had been reversed, I'm not certain I would have stayed. You saved my life.” He paused to control himself. “You've given me a future I nearly lost. You and Mary have told me about Samantha and your fight, through the appeal, to get funds to buy the best treatment possible to try and give her a better future. You shouldn't have to fight. A man who risks his life to save another person he doesn't know deserves better.” Another pause to wipe moisture from his eye. “Mary; will you go into my bedside cabinet please; there is an envelope in there with something for the 'Samantha Hitchins Appeal Trust'. William gave me my life, so I want to try to help Samantha keep hers.”

Mary did as Brian asked and opened the envelope. She looked in and took out the cheque that was inside. She quickly looked at the amount in figures written on the piece of paper and read what she thought was an amazing amount of £450.00 from someone she assumed had little money. At the same time she started to say: “Thank you Brian for the four hundred and . . ” She stopped in mid speech, having re-read the cheque correctly this time.

She read: Pay the 'Samantha Hitchins Appeal Trust' the sum of Forty-five thousand pounds: £45,000.00. Sir Brian Richmond.

William rushed forward and picked up the collapsed body, that was Mary, from the floor.

'Heroes' are not heroes of mine!

On average I make two shopping trips to Sainsbury's in Lincoln each week. The aim of these trips is to complete the boring task of shopping for groceries. An essential but not highly exciting trip. On occasions I will purchase non-housekeeping items including petrol for the car. It is not my intention on these trips to wash my car or have it washed for me.

So why is it that on 9 out of 10 of my visits to the Sainsbury's car park I am pestered by 'Heroes' car washers in their “distinctive blue jumpsuits” asking if I want my car cleaned. On each of my last three shopping trips, Friday 27^th July, Wednesday 1^st August and today I've been approached. I don't object, having no right to object, to there being a car wash service available in the car park to those wishing to have their car cleaned. What I do find objectionable is being targeted by a cleaner as soon as I have parked my car. More often than not before I have got my Sainsbury's re- usable shopping bags out of the boot of the car and locked it up.

On the company's website it states “grab your nearest Hero and show him where your car is parked”. You don't need to take this advice because the 'Hero' is there by your car, asking if you want it cleaned, materialising from who knows where, like a hunting animal after its prey, attacking from any direction. Now when I enter Sainsbury's car park, not only do I have to look for an empty parking space but I also find myself looking to avoid any free spaces close to any 'Heros' “mobile cleaning stations”.It is similar to walking through a shopping centre or town high street choosing a route that avoids annoying leaflet distributors and survey canvassers.

At the moment my customer loyalty to Sainsbury's outweighs my annoyance towards an unwanted 'Hero' but for how long?

Perhaps Sainsbury's could have a special offer: Spend £70 and get two free 'I don't want a Hero' car window stickers, for the windscreen and rear window? Alternatively they could insist that the cleaners wait for those desperate for a clean car to “Grab a Hero”, or have a 'Hero' free zone section of the car park.

New rule from July 1 requires drivers abroad to carry a breathalyser

From July 1 2012 anyone driving in France is required to have an unused breathalyser, conforming to French standards, with them in the car. Breathalyser kits cost around £2 each, but the fine for not having one will set people back €11. As the new law requires there to be one unused unit in the car it makes sense to carry two, so that if one is used there is still the obligatory one legal unit, as they are not too expensive.

Whilst the law is effective from the beginning of July it would seem that the fixed penalty fine for failing to have a breathalyser will not start to be levied until November. Having just driven through France, on my trip from Spain to the UK, I have to admit I didn't have the required unit, apparently along with 90% of those visitors intending to drive in France. But I will have two in the car on my return journey, even though this will be before November.

 Read more: New rule from July 1 requires drivers abroad to carry a breathalyser

Hit Amidships.

At approximately noon today, whilst driving in our car to our home, in fact we were less than 200 metres away, we were hit amidships by a careless, and one can assume either blind or had his eyes shut, driver.

We were only travelling in the region of 30 kph as the road is made narrow by the many parked cars along the roadside, as it is a residential area, and one often has to give way to oncoming traffic.

The offending driver was pulling out of a side road to the left of us, from his residential community, something which he obviously does many times, and didn't bother to look both ways. He admitted he had only looked to his left for oncoming traffic his side of the road (Spain: driving on the right) before starting to pull out and hitting us.

He seemed rather anxious to get on his way, initially only giving his name and telephone number, and saying that there was no need for me to call the police after I told him I was calling them and did so. He said he would pay for any repairs and that he had to get somewhere without delay so wasn't going to wait for the police. I said that was his choice but I intended waiting for the 'Policia Local'. He decided that it would be better to stay and wait.

After a reasonable short period of time the police arrived. The other driver confirmed to them that he accepted the blame for the accident. They advised that as there were no personal injuries that it was only necessary to complete a 'Declaracion Amistosa de Accidente' for the insurance companies and this would be the quickest and easiest way to finalise the matter of the repairs to our car. Although they didn't have to they assisted in the completion of the form, including checking of the validity of the driving licence and insurance of the other driver, ensuring that all the relevant details were included. I thanked them for their assistance to me.

Luckily, apart from the fact that were hit by this careless driver, the damage to the vehicle is not so severe as to make our vehicle unusable especially as we are due to make a long journey in it next week. The driver's door panel has been pushed in slightly and the side trim damaged. Having said this is it is something not of our responsibility that we could have done without, even more, especially at this time. I suppose this means a visit to our insurance agent on Monday!

Most older pedestrians are unable to cross the road in time

 The ability to cross a road in time is one that most of us take for granted.

Following research led by Dr Laura Asher of the Department of Epidemiology & Public Health at UCL (University College London), the results of the study have been published in the journal Age and Ageing, under the title 'Most Older Pedestrians are unable to cross the road in time'. the cross-sectional study has compared the walking speed of the older population in the UK (aged 65 and over) with the speed required to use a pedestrian crossing.

Currently, to use a pedestrian crossing a person must cross at a speed above 1.2 meters per second.

The research found that the mean walking speed of participants in the Health Survey for England was 0.9 meters per second for older men and 0.8 meters per second for older women. This is much below the speed required to use a pedestrian crossing in the UK and many other parts of the world.

Dr Asher says: "Older pedestrians are more likely to be involved in a road traffic collision than younger people due to slower walking speed, slower decision making and perceptual difficulties. Older people who are hit are also more likely to die from their injuries than younger people. She further commented that "the strength of this study is that it provides an accurate picture of the proportion of people aged 65 and over in the general population who are likely to be unable to use pedestrian crossings safely" and went on to say "Further consideration needs to be taken on the time allowed at pedestrian crossings. Pedestrian crossing times are currently being decreased in London as part of the Smoothing Traffic Flow Strategy, which is one component of the 2010 Mayor's Transport Strategy. Although there has been no alteration in the minimum assumed walking speed of pedestrians, there is a reduced 'invitation to cross' (green man) time." adding "Our study has shown that even before these changes, the vast majority of people over 65 years old in England are unable to walk fast enough to use a pedestrian crossing."

Read more about the study in ScienceDailly: Most older pedestrians are unable to cross the road in time

Journey across the Millau Viaduct

Our return route from England to Spain through France on this trip was via the E11/A75 which took us over the impressive Millau Viaduct on the 28th December 2011.

This was not the first occasion that we have travelled over it, but because we were ahead of schedule we had time to stop and take some photographs of this piece of magnificent engineering.

We stopped at the 'Aire du Viaduc de Millau' situated on the north side of the viaduct and climbed the footpath to the viewpoint.

As an experiment we decided to take a video of our drive over the bridge not expecting it to work-out, but here it is.



Edit 06.01.2012: The Baluarte bridge on the Mazatlan-Durango highway in Northern Mexico, standing at 403 metres has now been confirmed as the world's highest cable-stayed bridge, surpassing the Millau Viaduct.

Orihuela Costa to Heighington

The suitcases, five to be precise, and an assortment of other bags and packages were stored in our faithful Hyundai Getz. 'Operation Hibernation' was complete with the result of our Spanish home resting in a semi-comatose state until our return in the New Year. Our departure at 08:08 hrs. on Thursday 10^th November was the beginning of our three day journey to the United Kingdom. As usual on such excursions we normally have two nights stopovers in France.

Our target destination for Thursday night was the Ibis Hotel in Beziers. We have stopped there before as it is one of our three choices of hotels for first night accommodation in France; the other two being Perpignan and Narbonne. The days travelling went as planned, with us stopping, as usual on this route, for coffee at the services on the A7 Valencia ring-road, lunch at the L' Hospitalet services on the AP7, and afternoon tea at La Jonquera, before the final stage to Beziers, arriving at the hotel at 18:25 hrs. We always call into the gasolinera at La Jonquera, on the Spain/France border, to fill up the petrol tank with sin plomo 95 before entering France. The price increase of a litre of fuel from Spain to France is enormous. We paid €1.334 p/litre and then noted that just 20 kilometres into France the price was €1.625 p/litre. The saving we made by filling up in Spain paid for our afternoon tea!

The aim of our travel on day two is to get to within approximately three hours driving of 'Le tunnel sous la Manche' at Coquelles, Calais. This trip we decided, in consultation with Satnavratilova, to go the eastern route via Montpellier, Nimes, Lyon, Dijon, and Troyes, with our overnight stop at Reims in the Ibis Tinqueux. Having stopped for our three break periods during the day we arrived at 17:45 hrs.

Saturday the 12^th November, the third day, saw our arrival in the UK. An early start at 07:30 hrs. was needed to arrive at the Channel Tunnel in time to catch our pre-booked train. We couldn't afford to miss that one as we had a busy schedule to deal with in the afternoon. Our satisfaction at reaching the terminal in good time was soon reduced when we read the notice, as we waited to register our arrival and pass through the French and British passport control, “Due to a stopped train in the tunnel there is a delay on some departure times”. With all the administration procedures completed, including the printing of our train allocation alphabetical ticket displaying the letter 'H', we proceeded to the terminal building to await to be called to board the 'H' train at some unknown time. But as luck would have it; no sooner had we purchased our latte coffees than the announcement we hoped for was displayed on the notice screens. Our train was to depart on the scheduled time with those travellers delayed from the 'F' and 'G' trains joining us. The thought came to mind, what if three into one won't go! A second thought came into mind. If a power failure was the cause of the delays, what if it happened again when we were in the tunnel.

The what ifs didn't happen and we arrived at the Folkestone terminal on time at 10:55 hrs.

Our next objective was to be at Heighington, near Lincoln, at 15:30 hrs. to check out our outgoing tenant from our future UK base home. The two major hurdles that had to be negotiated as we drove north were the Dartford Crossing and the M25.

The approaches to the Dartford toll booths were surprisingly clear. We chose a non-change lane and as we approached the urinal coin collector Natalie made sure she had the £1.50 toll ready and practised her throwing action. Window down, we crept towards the receptor at a steady very slow speed, she took aim and threw the two coins in with some force, both of us looking for the red stop light to change to green before we reached it, to confirm receipt of the correct fee. Why wasn't it changing? Had Natalie thrown the two coins with such force that they were still going round the urinal like two motorcyclists riding the wall of death, or like two balls bouncing round a roulette wheel, seemingly determined not to fall to the bottom of the shoot to be counted. At last we had green.

Our short journey on the M25 from the tunnel to the M11 was bliss. In fact I had difficulty in not getting too excited and keeping below the 50 mph limit through the variable speed control section.

We arrived at Heighington on time and within twenty minutes the check-out was completed satisfactorily and the tenant had departed. As we are refurbishing the house before we furnish it we then moved on to our holiday rental cottage for three weeks as we were due there for 16:30 hrs. A quick unload of the car and then off to Sainsburys in Lincoln for provisions, returning to the cottage at 19:10 hrs. Having been on the move for nearly thirteen hours we had completed all our aims for the day. If you are thinking my calculation of the total time is wrong don't forget we put our watches back one hour when we entered the UK.

When we finally got to bed and turned the lights out I thought "What a day this has been"!

CoLJ 15 - A Day's Driving Not to be Forgotten!

We, Natalie and I, left The Conifers, our final holiday cottage on this trip, on Saturday 3^rd September for the drive through Southern England, France and Spain, in our trusty 2007 Hyundai Getz, and arrived home, in Orihuela Costa, on Monday 5^th September. The second and third days driving went without any problems and on schedule, cruising the motorways south through Europe. The same cannot be said for day one, which was predominantly in England, with a little section in Northern France to get from the Channel Tunnel to the south western suburbs of Paris.

Our aim was to get to our hotel for the first night at 20:00 hrs. including stopping 30 minutes for morning coffee, 60 minutes for lunch, 35 minutes through the tunnel, and a further 30 for afternoon tea. A stress free day was the plan.

It all started to go wrong after just an hour into our driving when we were delayed for a half an hour near Stamford in Lincolnshire by the multitude of vehicles clogging the A1, trying to enter the Burghley Horse Trials. The drivers didn't seem to understand the instruction “For Burghley keep in left-hand lane”.Once past this problem the traffic began to flow freely; that is until ten minutes later when we reached the beginning of the A1M section near Peterborough.

The motorway section was completely closed in both directions. Having taken 20 minutes to exit the slip road, as directed by the diversion signs, there was a distinct lack of any more assistance from the highways authority as to which way to go to continue south towards the A14 and M11, our route for the morning. It seemed to be a case of 'we've got you off the motorway – now you are on your own'. At first SatNavratilova was of no use either as she kept insisting on directing us towards the closed A1M. Out came the historical road map from the boot of the car, below the suitcases of course, a diversion route was determined, and we proceeded for some considerable amount of time along countryside A and B roads until we rejoined our initial route. Having put up with SatNavratilova telling me she was “recalculating” for some 15 minutes she eventually agreed with my old fashioned planned route and decided to take over the navigation again.

By the time we joined the A14, had had a very quick toilet break at some services, well can't ask a lady to go behind a hedge, we had lost almost two hours of our time. Never-the-less she, who doesn't like to have to recalculate, was telling us that we could still, if we didn't have any rest breaks, just make the channel tunnel before the departure gate closed at 14:12 hrs. and catch our planned for train departure at 14:42 hrs. When we left the M11 and joined the clockwise carriageway of the M25, heading towards the Dartford Crossing she was still confident, with our arrival time of 13:55 hrs. glowing in the bottom right-hand corner of her screen.

Having negotiated the many slip lanes to get into the flow of traffic, I was feeling confident, thinking to myself that the traffic on the dreaded M25 was flowing quite well and did the road really deserve its bad reputation on everyday. This was a Murray Walker 'Murrayism' moment. A few nano-seconds later Sally Traffic's week-end colleague announced on BBC radio 2 that traffic proceeding clockwise on the M25 in the region of the Dartford Crossing was not! There were delays of 45 minutes being experienced. It was an interesting time watching the lane swappers in their unsuccessful attempts to regain seconds of their time.

Eventually we had crossed the Thames over the impressive Queen Elizabeth 11 bridge, Natalie had accurately thrown our £1.50p toll fee into the urinal lookalike chute, to catch the pennies, at the toll booth, and we were heading for Folkestone our gateway to France, and freedom on the motorways. Of course there was just one problem. Our train would be halfway through the Channel Tunnel without us when we were now scheduled to arrive at the terminal!

As we neared the slip road from the M20 into the tunnel terminal I once more glanced a look at the fuel gauge which was registering that the tank was approaching only a quarter capacity left. Remembering the extortionate price of unleaded, sans plomo 95, sin plomo 95 petrol in France, and that there is not a petrol station on the entrance to the tunnel, because Euro tunnel prefer vehicles not to have a full tank of fuel on the trains, I decided to take 10 minutes to divert and call into the local Tesco garage to top up with fuel at the best possible prices. A saving of approximately £4.00p on 30 litres was worth a diversion of less than 3 miles. Time didn't matter as much now as we were already late. Mission accomplished we arrived at the check-in booths 1 hour and fifty minutes later than planned, having had no lunch, and only 7 minutes before our pre-booked train was to arrive in Calais.

Arriving at the deserted booths, and selecting one with the ticket dispenser on the left of the car, so much easier for a left-hand drive, I input our reservation number. I was asked to confirm I was me via the console touch screen, which after checking myself in the internal mirror, I did. I was then informed that we had missed our train! As if we hadn't realized! As I pointed out to the inanimate touch screen, in a polite verbal manner of voice, I knew this fact, true to its advertised policy this wonderful computerised component offered a new selection of alternative train departures to choose from. We chose the train just one hour after our original reservation. At no extra cost. Take note Ryan Air of good customer service.

So, after all the problems of the journey to the Folkestone terminal we would arrive in France just one hour late. The rest of the day's, sunny early evening, travel on the French motorways and the Paris Western and Southern Périphérique to our hotel would be easy! There wouldn't be any need to stop for petrol, and as we ate our late packed lunch whilst travelling through the tunnel, there wouldn't be any need to stop for tea. We could be at the evening hotel by 20.30 hrs. just 30 minutes later than planned; so I thought!

Two hours of easy driving on a motorway and we began to notice the ash grey clouds building ahead of us. A quarter of an hour further they had changed to battleship grey with hints of lightning flashing across the sky. Five minutes later the clouds are a dark slate grey verging on a crow black, coal black, the lightning is forking to the ground, and the heavy rain is drumming deafeningly on the roof of the car. The windscreen wipers are on at the fastest speed and not coping with clearing the water. The drains on the motorway surface are not emptying the water away quick enough. The motorway has become a canal. We passed a road sign reminding us that when it's raining the maximum speed limit drops from 130 kph. to 110 kph. I looked at the speedometer; we were travelling at 65 kph., keeping pace with the red tail lights ahead, and struggling to see where we were going. We wondered at the kamikaze captains of the speedboats in the outside lane. For an eternity, probably almost 30 minutes, we drove into the unrelenting waterfall longing for the exit from the motorway. We wondered if we would be able to read the road-signs, through the deluge, telling of the right slip road, when SatNavratilova reassured us with her instructions of “exit right in 1 kilometre” then “exit right in 500 metres” and finally “exit right”. I wasn't going to doubt or argue with her. In a minor way I was like a pilot landing his aircraft under IFR(Instrument Flight Rules) conditions. Unfortunately though she didn't see the lake on the slip road, neither did the drivers of the two vehicles in front us. As they both hit the water it was like a water main had burst through the tarmac. The 5 metre scarlet fountains either side of them visible in my headlights and the red brake lights of the cars, a warning to me.

It seemed as though the rain weakened shortly after we left the motorway, helping drastically with visibility on the roads through the Paris suburbs making it easier to follow the calm, clear instructions from SatNavratilova, leaving me only to concentrate on the black wet shiny roads, the multitude of bright traffic lights, and the erratic lane changes of the Paris drivers.

At last at 21:30 hrs. her confident voice assured us that we were “arriving at destination on right”. The hotel sign a glowing beacon of safety from the coal black wet night.

We had had a day's driving not to be forgotten and hopefully never repeated!

CoLJ 14 - The Conifers is O.T.T.

During our trip to the United Kingdom we stayed in The Conifers, in Broadholme, near Lincoln for two one week periods, interspersed by our visits to Herefordshire and the Yorkshire Dales. We needed to visit Lincoln twice for business reasons.

As a **** rated accommodation the property was clean, except for the crumbs left in the electric toaster, and contained all the facilities that one would expect. In fact it contained far more equipment than needed for a holiday rental cottage and I doubt if much of the excess was actually used.

The interior space was smaller than anticipated to the point of giving the feeling of being cramped. Although the cottage website makes reference to the steep stairs to the upper floor nothing can prepare visitors for exactly how steep the staircase is and how narrow the step treads are. Parts of the fabric of the building are looking tired and in need of attention. There is a considerable sign of the effects of damp to the paintwork on one of the walls in the bedroom, and a small amount in the lounge.

Not only is there the unnecessary amount of kitchen equipment but there is an unnecessary quantity of instructions of dos and do nots in each of the rooms. So many in our (Natalie and I) opinion to the point of being non-user friendly in so much as it felt we were an inconvenience by using the property.

I've mentioned the bread crumbs left in the electric toaster which is ironic because there is an instruction that after using the toaster the tea towel found on top of it is to be replaced after each time the toaster is used. It seems it doesn't matter if it is full of old crumbs as long as the tea towel is in position when the toaster is not in use.

When we first entered the cottage the blinds on the lounge and kitchen windows were pulled down, and the curtains in the bedroom and the bathroom were drawn making the interior even dark than it already is with them open, to protect the furnishings from the sun. As can be seen in the notice on the lounge window sill it is permissible to open the blinds when inside the cottage, that's good to know

In the lounge there are several other 'Polite Notice' including one referring to the use of the dinning table. Perhaps it would be better not to have put a "William Bartlett Strongbow mahogany dining table (retailing in excess of £600)" in a holiday rental property. It would save having another laminated notice.

On a similar line of thought perhaps it might have been better not to have installed an antique looking and fragile “classy French style console hand basin”, that the owners are so concerned may get damaged, that yet another notice is printed, laminated and prominently displayed. Only our desire to maintain our personal hygiene persuaded us to tempt fate and use the sink. Unfortunately the glass fibre bath alongside doesn't quite match the image created by the delicate basin.

Too much of the limited storage space in the cramped cottage was taken up by items of the owners for ongoing storage. In the bedroom the result being that we could not unpack the majority of our clothes from our suitcases. There was no drawer space in the bedroom and of the two wardrobe spaces one was completely full of owners items.

Overall our experience at 'The Conifers' was not satisfactory. This was because of the lack of space and we felt the owners, with the deluge number of polite notices throughout the property made the atmosphere feel non-user friendly. We felt uncomfortable in the cottage. Had we not already reserved and paid for our second week stay, and needed to be in the vicinity of Lincoln, we would have chosen an alternative location for the last week of our UK visit.

In my opinion the owners of 'The Conifers' have gone over the top, with the amount of polite notices and the unnecessary excess of equipment and owner storage in the cottage, to the detriment of customer comfort. The continual use of the expression "Thank you in anticipation of your co-operation" becomes galling!