Saturday, 23 June 2018

THE APOCALYPTIC MOTORWAY

Having made a 6am city-centre drop-off, this morning I did that rare thing and drove alone very early down a near empty motorway back home.

Its a strange experience. Almost armegeddon-like, like a set out of Day of the Triffids or The Day After. A vast car-less road lying ahead with the summer sun beating down and a shimmering heat rising up from the tarmac.

The unusual solitude gave me chance to turn up the volume of my car CD and listen to Zal Cleminson's Sin Dogs growl The Guns of God at full blast as I drove down the M62, increasing my sense of other worldliness like one of those wide-eyed survivors in the film Quiet Earth or the sad rejects of Project S.W.O.R.D.

During the drive, I also partook in another rare thing, a classic MacDonalds breakfast of coffee and double sausage egg McMuffin. There was hardly anyone else eating at 6.30am.

Despite Maccy D's tinkering with the interior and its urge to streamline the sales counter to almost nothing, McDonalds and co, ubiquitous embassies of American culture, always guarantee a warm welcome for the early morning driver seeking breakfast in the concrete sprawl. Except for the hard-to-find greasy spoon, I can't really think of a home-grown equivalent offering this early morning service.

And so, suitably refreshed with beef and java and contemplating new apocalyptic horizons for my old Sarge stories, I resumed my morning cruise back home along a near empty motorway.

I've arrived.

13 comments:

  1. Woodsy didn't you notice that, for a moment, you were lost in a J.G. Ballard novel?

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    1. I was Arto! Terminal Beach! Hopefully not Crash!

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  2. I see Woodsy as road warrior, Mad Max, Arto... sorry Woodsy :D

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    1. ha ha, meet me at the Thunderdome Tone!

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    2. The Thunderdome! My God man...you've got Kung Fu on your side and I'm a cowardly custard with an aversion to being thumped... and I've got a bad knee.
      Huh, how about settlin' this the old fashioned way, over a game of Top Trumps... yeh, I'm callin' you out, Woodsy... pick a card :D

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  3. Ask a construction worker where to find breakfast,Woodsy.You won't be disappointed.

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    1. There are never any construction workers on British motorways Bri! Just empty roadworks and speed restrictions!

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    2. Further to Brian's response, you could always ask a trucker where you could find a good fry up!!

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  4. There may not be a British equivalent now, but I remember Transport Cafes in the 60s and 70s.
    Only experienced them once or twice at that hour, usually on the way to a 'distant' seaside resort, when going on holiday with the family in my dad's motorbike and sidecar, but they had a welcoming 'glow' too. Especially their full Englishes!
    Mish.

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    1. How many of the family were in the sidecar and on the bike Mish? Sounds an amazing way to get to the coast.

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  5. Oh yes, and they were lorry drivers then, NOT 'truckers'!
    Mish.

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  6. UK Motorway Services used to be a desirable destination when they first appeared in the 50s? 60s? Families drove down the new highways for a fine three course meal in the lane-spanning bridges of steel and glass, which even had waiter service! In Britain! No fine dining for me yesterday. On the return leg of the city-centre pick up I once again ended up at the same Maccy D's going on midnight for my tea! Maybe I should just have all my meals at McDonalds and live on the motorway somewhere!

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  7. Four of us travelled.
    Mum and me in the fully covered sidecar, with my older brother and my dad riding the bike. Used to go camping in the Lakes that way too, up until we got a car in the mid 70s.
    Mish.

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