Cars

I hate cars.

Actually, that is a lie.  I like cars.  I like how they can take me from one place to another quickly.  I've slept in cars on a number of occasions (generally at festivals when I can't be bothered with the hassle of taking and erecting a tent), I've owned a car more or less non-stop since I was 19 (which is a long time ago now that I think about it), and I wouldn't be without one.

I love trips on the motorway, and how you can drive for a couple of hours and then take a junction that drops you into a little village hundreds of miles away from where you started.  In some ways the road network shares similarities with the Internet, in that it's all too easy to follow a sign (or click a link?) and end up in Lesser Griplingcoates (or end up on YouTube) enjoying the annual Morris Dancing festivities (watching cat videos).

But today my car went from a moving vehicle to a stationary vehicle.  We were travelling back from a wedding, and about a hundred and twenty miles into the journey, just as we started heading up a large bridge, the car started to make a weird grinding noise.  I tried to get the car up to the top of the bridge so that we could then roll it down the other side (and hopefully off at a junction at the bottom of the bridge), but all I managed was to get it nearly to the top of the bridge before it died.

On the plus side it gave me the opportunity to take this nice photo...

And this photo...

And this photo.  I don't like this one as much as the other two.

Luckily my emergency breakdown cover sorted us out (thanks to the RAC!) but the diagnosis for my Vauxhall Agila (aka Postman Pat van) isn't good, it looks as though the head gasket is gone, and the car really isn't worth the money to repair it, I'm better off spending the money on a replacement car.  Ah well - the Agila served us well for a few years!