Calendar An icon of a desk calendar. Cancel An icon of a circle with a diagonal line across. Caret An icon of a block arrow pointing to the right. Email An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of the Facebook "f" mark. Google An icon of the Google "G" mark. Linked In An icon of the Linked In "in" mark. Logout An icon representing logout. Profile An icon that resembles human head and shoulders. Telephone An icon of a traditional telephone receiver. Tick An icon of a tick mark. Is Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes. Is Not Public An icon of a human eye and eyelashes with a diagonal line through it. Pause Icon A two-lined pause icon for stopping interactions. Quote Mark A opening quote mark. Quote Mark A closing quote mark. Arrow An icon of an arrow. Folder An icon of a paper folder. Breaking An icon of an exclamation mark on a circular background. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Caret An icon of a caret arrow. Clock An icon of a clock face. Close An icon of the an X shape. Close Icon An icon used to represent where to interact to collapse or dismiss a component Comment An icon of a speech bubble. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Comments An icon of a speech bubble, denoting user comments. Ellipsis An icon of 3 horizontal dots. Envelope An icon of a paper envelope. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Camera An icon of a digital camera. Home An icon of a house. Instagram An icon of the Instagram logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. Magnifying Glass An icon of a magnifying glass. Search Icon A magnifying glass icon that is used to represent the function of searching. Menu An icon of 3 horizontal lines. Hamburger Menu Icon An icon used to represent a collapsed menu. Next An icon of an arrow pointing to the right. Notice An explanation mark centred inside a circle. Previous An icon of an arrow pointing to the left. Rating An icon of a star. Tag An icon of a tag. Twitter An icon of the Twitter logo. Video Camera An icon of a video camera shape. Speech Bubble Icon A icon displaying a speech bubble WhatsApp An icon of the WhatsApp logo. Information An icon of an information logo. Plus A mathematical 'plus' symbol. Duration An icon indicating Time. Success Tick An icon of a green tick. Success Tick Timeout An icon of a greyed out success tick. Loading Spinner An icon of a loading spinner. Facebook Messenger An icon of the facebook messenger app logo. Facebook An icon of a facebook f logo. Facebook Messenger An icon of the Twitter app logo. LinkedIn An icon of the LinkedIn logo. WhatsApp Messenger An icon of the Whatsapp messenger app logo. Email An icon of an mail envelope. Copy link A decentered black square over a white square.

RAB: I live in a cul-de-sac but cars arrive every minute. Where are they all going?

Post Thumbnail

Something is happening, and I don’t know what it is. Oh you don’t either. Well, that puts us in a right pickle.

Perhaps it would help if I tell you what’s on my mind. And no, madam, it isn’t a hat. You’re confusing my mind with my head. Two quite different things.

Here’s my official briefing on the matter. When I lived, until recently, in the city, my hoose was in a cul-de-sac. And what fascinated me was that, if I was out working in the front-garden, say, there’d be a car along every minute, either coming in or, if I have got this right, going oot.

With regards to the former in particular, I couldn’t fathom where they were going. There were only a handful of houses down either side of the street, but there was so much traffic I began to suspect there must have been a secret, multi-storey car park down there.

Now that I’ve moved to the sticks, the same thing is happening. I’m not only in a cul-de-sac – not really the mots justes (with apologies for all the French) since we’re a handful of house on a hill – but the main road also leads to a dead-end: it’s a three-mile cul-de-sac, if you will. It’s a road to nowhere. And the traffic never stops.

On our hill road, it’s often tractors and the like and, just as often, delivery vans since, instead of driving 23 miles for a packet of drawing pins, we just order them on Amazon. Not just drawing pins. Unable to buy them anywhere locally (or at least fit them in my hatchback), I’d 10 5ft fence posts (from eBay) delivered recently. Marvellous.

On the main, single-track road, there’s a car every 30 seconds. And, again, it’s only serving maybe 30 houses. Where, in the name of the Wee Man, are they all going? Is there a multiplex cinema down there that I don’t know about?

Although we get tourists, we’re nowhere near the main visitor attractions. True, there’s supposed to be a decent beach at the end of the road but, as it’s three miles down a single-track with plentiful traffic, I’ve been too frightened to drive down to it.

It’s also true to say that, since summer’s end, the traffic has lessened slightly. But it’s still busy. Whenever I waddle along the road to the Fairy Glen (a pleasant, wooded walk to a rocky shore), I have to stand aside on the verge constantly to let vehicles past (with only around half the drivers thanking you with a wave).

I know that, in the sticks, you have to go everywhere by car. But there are only so many people. And, as in the city cul-de-sac, there isn’t really anywhere to go. There was one bloke in that city street who would get in his car about 15 times a day. I guess it’s a man-toy, a kind of dodgem. But as many of the Drivers to Nowhere are women.

I suppose I’ll just have to chalk this down to one of life’s unfathomable mysteries, like UFOs or ghosts or why people eat cauliflower voluntarily. But I still suspect there’s some hidden amenity at the end of the road, a McDonald’s maybe, or a big Marks & Spencer that’s for private members only.