I got home late this evening, late by my standards, as I only live seven miles away from the office. The journey home should take me around twenty minutes. Although yesterday I got close to beating my own record of fifteen minutes. My foot was on the accelerator all the way until I reached the Handy Cross roundabout. The roads were clear and the traffic was light, it must be coming up the school holidays. Today was a complete contrast and there was more to come. I left the office at 6.05, noting the time on the dash, as I drove out of the car park because I was a few seconds behind my manager. As I got onto the by pass I noted a heavy build up of traffic but nothing more than usual. As I came up to some heavy standing traffic, I thought nothing of it. Otherwise I would have taken the earlier exit. I assumed that the main roundabout at junction 4 of the M40 was busier than normal and I expected to be home by 7pm, 7.30pm at the latest. As the evening drew on and I spent ten, then twenty minutes without moving a single yard, I came until the impression that I was going to be here for a long time. My CD collection kept me sane for a few hours (while other commuters in their cars, would have considered me insane). I do not listen to the radio and keep the traffic announcements off. Sure, perhaps I should switch them on, but most of the time they are irrelevant. I also hate my music being interrupted, particularly when I am singing along! By the time the clock struck 8pm, I was seriously considering abandoning my car, but then decided against it. Only to see a handful of people, park their cards to the side of the dual carriageway and make their way on foot. There are two matrix signs over this major A road, yet they remained bear. A week ago, their were informing drivers of the road closures to the A43 due to the weekend GB GP. At 8.40pm, my patience had been tested to the limit. I was hungry and my body needed fuel. At the first possible opportunity I parked up, behind a P&O lorry, incidentally. Taking out my bag and putting on my jacket, I must have been quite a sight on the road. On this hot summer day, casually walking down the side of the road. As my luck would have it, the local police had been able to get the traffic moving, so I would have been advised to remain in the car and make the final part of my journey home. In my stubborn ways, I had opted to walk and headed home. The most puzzling part of all this for me was why nearly three hours of delay? There was nothing noteworthy when I came onto the roundabout and carefully maneuvered myself around the traffic lights, and cars. The police were actually finishing off their operation and a policeman sped past me on foot to jump in his patrol car. As I got in and took off my jacket, I looked at the clock on my stereo. It was 9.02pm. I left the office over three hours ago and my evening to date had been spent in the car, running out of music to listen to. I was glad to be back, but there was a few things to clear up before I could call it a night. I was more than slightly peeved to have missed the 7.30pm edition of Eastenders and opted to watch the late night repeat on BBC Three. I still needed to collect my car, but my sister had promised to do that on here way back from Slough later this evening. In the end, she could not, or rather would not, so I had to catch a lift from her to go collect it at 10pm. It was now that I saw the wreckage of a dark coloured Ford Fiesta, being picked up by a recovery truck. All this delay for a minor accident? Where is this country heading? With car finally on the driveway, the adventures of the day were finally over. Lesson learnt? Found a permanent alternative way to and from work. Perhaps this is the wrong time to grown a conscience for mother nature and consider the environmentally friendly option of cycling. My response to that is dream on!

I need to mention one of my dearest friends and some time blogger, Nav. (Using the adjective some is pushing it to the limit, trust me!) We have had discussions, sometimes heated about Newsnight and our favourite presenters. While I prefer the stern final words of Jeremy, my ex house mate prefers Gavin Esler for his, ‘happy endings’. I know what he is trying to say, but I always go for real and raw. You need to be reminded that even with all this grand plans going on all over the world, you have work tomorrow, so get yourself to sleep. Naveen, however must prefer the gentle, softly spoken words, wishing you goodnight, almost in a whisper.