Travelling (Day Two)

So after yesterday’s 360+ mile drive from Norfolk to Wales, we’re now on Day Two – the two hour ferry crossing from Wales to Rosslare on a vomit-comet ship, and then the further 180ish miles over to County Kerry.

By the time we get there, my arse should be just about moulded to the shape of the seat in the Mondeo.

I just hope it’ll be worth it. I’m sure it will – but right now, well, let’s just hope.


Travelling

Today, we’re off to Ireland for a week. (Well, we actually get back next Sunday, so it’s about ten days all told, but that includes the driving across from Norfolk to Wales – and back, of course – which is adding another day on either end)

In a fit of dubious sanity, we’re driving across this time, so we can take Hound. How she’ll handle the ferry I currently have no idea. I’m hoping she’ll be fine and just sleep all the way across – it’s a vomit-comet crossing rather than the normal big jobs, so it should only take a couple of hours.

Whatever, it’ll be interesting – and I do think Hound’ll love it when we get to Glenbeigh (on the Ring of Kerry) with all the beaches, hills, and everything to run around. In fact, I sometimes wonder whether we’ll actually see all that much of her…


Coming to a Close

At the moment, today is my last day in the current contract. It’s been pretty good – I started back at the beginning of April, for a two-week contract – so to have ended up doing two months here has worked out quite nicely.

The job/work has been OK – but the commute has been bloody horrid. For some reason, the A11 and A47 seem to be some kind of magnet for crap drivers, and there hasn’t been a day yet where I haven’t been cut up, or forced to slow down because of people (to use one example from today) travelling at 50 mph in the outside lane and staying parallel with the cars on the inside lane rather than overtaking them.

I don’t mind commuting to work, and the drive is far easier than it would be to take the train – in fact, taking the train is nigh-on impossible, as the first train from home wouldn’t get me in ’til 9.15. (at which point I’d still have to get from station to office) So I’ve been doing 400 miles a week just for work – not cheap, but them’s the breaks when you live in the arse end of nowhere.

I’ve currently got no idea where I’ll be working next. There’s a few options already, but I’m not sorting out anything confirmed until we’re back from Ireland. Then we’ll see.


In The Garage

So today, the car’s getting (yet more) work done on it.

Firstly (actually secondly if we look at the order of work, but well) it’s time for the annual service. I’ve just hit the 80,000 mile mark, so that’s pretty much spot on for getting it booked in and sorted. Besides, I’m happier to have it serviced before we add on another couple of thousand miles taking it to and from Ireland in June.

Secondly (Yeah, firstly in order of work. Blah Blah.) I need to get some bodywork done on the thing, haven’t clattered another deer a couple of weeks ago. Stupid thing had a clear road for a couple of miles in front of me, then my car and the one that was tailgating me, then another couple of miles of clear road. So when did it decide to run out from the nearside? Just as I came up to it, of course. Stupid fucking creature.

So it bounced under the front bumper, and up into the front wheel-arch, dislodging various things and smacking the crap out of the front bumper. Result? The car needs new front bumper, new wheel-arch liner, some pipework readjusting (turns out the air-con cylinder is also on that side of the car) and about £600 of work on it. Bugger.

Still, it could’ve been much worse. If the deer had been much bigger it would’ve done far more damage. If it had hit dead-centre, it would’ve done far more damage. Of course, if the cretinous thing had waited twenty seconds, it would’ve had a clear road and wouldn’t be dead. That’s Darwinism for you.

But anyway, it means the car’s in a couple of garages (fortuitously one right next to the other) for the day, which means I’m in a courtesy car. And what’ve they given me, bearing in mind I’m 6’4ish and built like a brick shithouse? A fucking Ford Fiesta, of course. In which I’ll be doing my normal commute to and from work. Should be good for a few comedy moments, if nothing else…


Upcoming Break

At the end of the month, we’re going over to Ireland for a week’s holiday – and I’m really looking forward to it.

Getting there will be interesting – we’re taking Hound, and the car, so it’s going to be a matter of driving the 350ish miles from Norfolk right the way across the country to Haverfordwest, staying overnight there, getting up at stupid o’clock to get on the vomit comet ferry across to Ireland, then driving another 190 miles all the way across Ireland to where we’re staying near Glenbeigh, on the Ring of Kerry. All told, about 550 miles plus ferry crossing – and the same on the way back, of course. Bearing in mind it was only about 250 miles to get up to the Lake District, that really is going some.

As it is it’s looking like it’ll be a good week. We’ve got what looks like a stunning house lined up, and then plan to just spend the week going round the Ring of Kerry and just relaxing again. I foresee lots of photos…

I’m also planning on doing a bit of writing while I’m away – although I said that when we went to the Lake District too, and got absolutely sod-all done on that score, so we’ll just see what works and what doesn’t.

But I can tell you now, I’m just about counting the days…


Mileage

Gordon wrote the other day about the mileage he covers to commute, and the cost of fuel (among other things) and it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while (by which I mean ‘way before he wrote about it’) but never really got round to putting into words. So here goes for another attempt.

At the moment, I’m commuting between home and Great Yarmouth for the current contract. It’s about 40 miles each way, so about 400 miles per week. That’s about a tank of fuel per week – and wow, do you notice how much the price of fuel has gone up in the last year. Hell, in the last three months.

Remember all the fuss and fuel blockades when the price of petrol first went over the £1 per litre mark? (The BBC story linked to there is from 2000 – I thought it was a lot more recent than that, but what would I know?) Well now it’s nudging £1.20 per litre, and no-one seems to be protesting or complaining at all. Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

When we moved up to Norfolk, one of the main aims was to be able to live a greener, more ecological/economical life. And in general we’ve managed it. In fact, the biggest part of my carbon footprint now is my annual mileage. The problem is that as we live in the back-end of nowhere, I have to travel to offices in places where the work is. It’s a fact of life – at least until I get my own business properly started, and can work from home. Then it’ll start working out for the better. But until then, I’m just going to have to keep on eating up the miles.

God knows, I’d rather not have to be doing this kind of mileage. But at the moment, I do have to, short of completely changing my employment, career, and salary expectations.


Home again, Home again

So yes, we got back from our week in the Lakes just fine. All the predicted rain, snow, sleet, hail, and (possibly) typhoons and hurricanes didn’t appear. Equally, the predicted “nightmare on the roads” didn’t appear (for us, anyway).

In fact, we left Penrith at 8.45 this morning, and got in at 14.30 – which included a diversion due to one horrid jam at Elveden (which we’d expected) and a couple of short stops as well. All told, five-and-three-quarter hours journey time for approximately 320 miles. So an average of about 56mph. Could be better, could be worse.

I’ll write more thoughts about our time away over the coming weekend, but for now suffice it to say that we had a great time, and have come home feeling far more refreshed and energised than when we went up. So it’s been well worth the time and effort.