For those who have missed me, I hopped over to Holland for my annual car check. I thought to 'earn back' my journey by travelling through France. But I had not reckoned on the 'péages', the toll roads. Although they do not entirely equalize the price tag, the feeling to be subjected to these grim highway robberies filled me with 460 disgruntled km.
After the passport check assisted by a soldier in camouflage (I spotted him right away) I knew that I had to drive counterclockwise on a roundabout. And I have done that for dozens of years. But Rollo was quite right when he stated that evolution never returns on her own footsteps. In spite of this, though, my head won, be it heartrending, and for two weeks with the nervousness of a traitor I had to deny my left reflexes.
And as I was sharp anyway I drove the whole 900 km through the night in 14 hours. Only at Zwolle, with a little less than 100 km to go, I became a little tired and on the last track, from Assen to Norg, I was scared stiff.
At this stretch, there is mostly no line in the middle of the road. In Ireland, I am steering on the verge side. I can drive on the edge with razor-sharp precision in full confidence that the right side of my van stays within my half of the road. Moreover, quite a few roads here are hollow and the high verges form a cross between a wall of death and a crash barrier. On the Dutch roads without middle marking I have to guesstimate not to land in the verge. Something I'm not used to anymore, so I take a wider margin than is figured by the Ministry for Traffic. Add to that night and rain, headlights of the oncoming traffic reflecting on the road and the light from the traffic behind me reflecting in my rearview mirrors, on winding, unlit roads and even for my state of service as a driver without major accidents since I was 18 years old, a horror scenario with very narrow contraflow.
Generally I am very capable of controlling my fury, but I have wished those responsible for the middleless road the same paralyzing agony that I have felt myself. Why in the name of Trafficia not one line in the middle, so everybody knows his proper lane? It's also one time cheaper than the safety they insinuate towards cyclists.
Besides and in the daylight, however, I find the tarmac in Holland utmost soporific. I admit it is more tyre-friendly, but here you always have to be on the alert for potholes. And that prevents a whole lot of other misery. Would it not be a very Dutch application to, to this effect, paint lots of potholes on the roads? You could even put in a pressure point linked to a camera and calculate road tax after the number of hits by a car. In this way they contribute to traffic safety and pay for themselves.
The official reason, as I was told, to take the middle marking off the roads, was that drivers would be more alert. My pothole proposition is quite in line with this philosophy.
Back in England, I felt a lot safer driving on the good old left again and in Ireland, back on the two-lane roads, tings lightened up all over. See, you drive a lot behind lorries and they are hard to overtake. They suck up a dense blur of street dust. In the traditional rainy weather you have to often splash your windscreen clean with wiper fluid. That contains alcohol, which enters the car via the ventilation inlets. I think I'd better fill my wiper fluid tank with beer. That foams as well and is quite a bit healthier than tri-ethylene alcohol, or sumpting.