Bugger, blast, bugger.....!!!!

Sometimes, you just have to feel that life is conspiring to make ones unceasing quest for a quiet life altogether more difficult than it might be. I sometimes get to the end of the week feeling like a medieval pilgrim who has reached his journeys end having overcome all manner of difficulties and challenges, most of which seem to come in one form or another from South West Trains.

This week though, this week has been different for things have been breaking and each and every one has been dammed irritating in it's own right. First, something in the back went delivering what felt like 20,000 volt shocks down the leg to a tingling foot. I then naively took the advice of a well meaning friend and went to see a not so well meaning chiropractor. £75 poorer and I now know what a potato feels like when it's being mashed. Still, the pains gone. 

Next, and in no particular order, the internet went at home for which BT are only going to charge me £200 to pop over and see if it's their fault, the spin dryer went apparently, (not sure what that is), the driver belt went on the lawn mower and the dishwasher blew up, (by that I don't mean Mrs Flashbang went bat sh*t crazy; it's just another broken machine in the kitchen). Then the sat-nav went in the Land Rover. I mean for goodness sake, anything but the sat-nav, it's saved my marriage on countless occasions. Quick off the mark, Land Rover said they could fix it in double quick time and promptly ordered the spare part. Yep, they ordered the wrong spare part so I've now got a week to look forward to being navigated around the Highlands by an easily distracted teenager. 

This may explain why, on arrival at our destination earlier, after a 9 hour drive, we guaranteed that having put a bad week behind us at the other end of the journey, we started this week with another irritating little piece of bad luck.

I got pinged by the local polis 40 yds from the hotel after a 565 mile journey.


Clearly, the brave boys of the Grampian Constabulary in Banchory have been chatting with the boys of the Hampshire Constabulary in Liphook because they employ exactly the same tactic of pointing their cameras at people driving out of the village, sneakily locating themselves around a corner and under a shady tree. As I explained before, most people might think the sensible thing to do to elevate speed awareness and pedestrian safety would be to tackle speeding drivers entering the villages but no, these boys have obviously thought the problem through and figured out that the best way to raise revenue is to ping motorists on the way out when they're anticipating the higher speed limits, and forget the pedestrians in the village.

At least they're consistent.

 Lets hope the salmon are somewhat less proficient in camouflage and concealment.