Pie In The Sky?

Piloting the old Toyota Priapus down from London yesterday afternoon, there was a 20 mile queue on the opposite carriageway of the M2 stretching all the way from the Medway services back to Whitstabubble!

Loads of happy campers seemed to be returning from a day or weekend on our fabulous Kent coast, equipped with bicycles, kayaks, jet skis, boats and all the paraphernalia of splashing about in the the sun! I lost count of the poor buggers who had broken down and were waiting by their jalopies on the hard shoulder.

And that despite the obvious distraction of watching the Greatest Living Englishman In The World Ever winning Wimbledon! Hurrah!

Mind you, it's a bit of a double-edged sword. The tailback was reminiscent of the M5 down to the Cornish riviera in the summer rush. At this rate we could soon be lining up for days to pay £5 for an elderflower and clover honey ice cream, and having the hand-pulled pork and caramelised onion pies plucked out of our paws by the bloomin' seagulls no sooner than we've coughed up our tenner to buy them. Be careful what you wish for!

Pain In The Grass

Cripes! That's the last time I try starting the old Lawnflite 909 under the influence of a couple of G&Ts, I can tell you. The QEQM were marvellous, though, and didn't seem to mind at all when I gave them the finger.

My thanks to Mr Ceaucescu (no relation) for holding the proverbial in my absence.