Roads have never been so good, cars have never been so good, driving has never been so awful. Last Sunday morning I decided to drive the five miles or so from where I was staying into the centre of Bristol. At the first roundabout the traffic started, and didn't stop until we got into the city centre. This was Sunday morning, remember, but the traffic level was about equivalent to a rush hour of a few years ago. By the time we got back from this little jaunt I had about decided to give up my car altogether, and rely on foot, bike, bus, train, or whatever.
Is it over for driving? Are cars now next to unusable? All you can do is glance over and admire the polished titanium brake calipers of the BMW stuck in the queue next to you. The only part of modern motorised man that is not obese is the left leg, with muscles built to a pitch of perfection by operating the clutch pedal in traffic jams. Those with automatic gearboxes have no weapon against complete obesity, of course.
On Sunday evening it was time to leave the West Country and drive back to leafy Surrey. I dislike motorways so always try to take the old road. The old road in question turned out to be blissfully free of other cars. On one long straight stretch I could see no other car behind or in front. On top of this the evening sun shone brightly. This was not driving, this was motoring: in a lovely responsive car (an Alfa Romeo), on a lovely clear road. No wonder the motor car caught on.
By the time we reached home I had decided that perhaps it's not quite time yet to give up on motoring.
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