It was the Sun that triumphantly broke the news.
March 24th, 2011.
The day that Britain’s frustrated motorists – indeed, all Britons – could at long last get back behind the wheels of their cars. The roads – empty for so long – began to trickle back to life. The glorious stench of diesel particulates once again began to settle over our beautiful gyratories. The throaty roar of revved engines reverberated gloriously off our multi-story car parks. The traffic jams began – finally – to clog our narrow urban streets.
Normality was restored.
But I have recently become aware of one brave individual, who managed – against all the odds – to keep driving during this extraordinary motoring winter of discontent.
Yes, one of my work colleagues, I have found, has spent the last decade driving.
And not just driving. Oh no.
They managed to keep driving for no apparent reason at all – in glorious defiance of the futile war declared on the motorist.
They spent that decade cutting the mile it would have taken them to walk or cycle* to work in half, by driving circuitously across town for nearly two miles.
I salute this courageous individual, who at extraordinary expense, and with great difficulty, insisted on lengthening the time it took them to get to work – just so someone, anyone, would still be driving.
*Thank God none of us will ever have to do that again.