Round and round I go...

And then we have that great invention called the roundabout, which the New Planet seems to have created deliberately to annoy travellers. Now, these are not to be confused with the pimples in the road that they have in the Southernmost Colony and call a traffic circle. They range in size from small circles with four roads converging, to massive, congested, five lane confluences with nine or ten roads converging like spaghetti throwing a tantrum. Woe betide if I don’t know which exit to take. I have ended up going round and round and round trying to find the correct exit, get into the right lane and avoid being squashed between other drivers who do know where they’re going and are not at all sympathetic towards lost foreigners.

The exits are not always that clearly sign posted and I have discovered after many a tearful journey, that it doesn’t help to only know the name of the town I am going to, but I also need to know the names of the nearest big town, and at least five or six villages en route. I also need to know in which direction I am headed. It’s all very well to be on what the New Planetarians call 'motorways', but if you're heading North instead of South, matters become even more confused. When you think you're heading for The Great Capitol City and end up at the Severnth Bridge leading into a nearby planetoid where they speak in sing song accents and eat leeks, a newly arrived traveller can end up feeling a right twit (well I certainly did).

I am only now beginning to make peace with the road systems, but at least I finally know how to find my way home if I get lost. I once found myself trapped in a jungle of winding alleyways and narrow, never previously before discovered lanes bordered by impenetrable hedges for three and a half hours because I just didn’t know which way to turn as nothing was familiar (and it was pouring with rain, which is does from time to time as I might have mentioned previously).

There is definitely something about coming from the Southern Colonies…not only does the water go the wrong way down the plug hole, but for the directionally challenged left feels like right, North feels like South and all directions make absolutely no sense at all. And a local cartograph is not necessarily helpful. You might find the building you're looking for on page 94, but how you actually get to page 94 is another story. Sitting in a layby as you flap through the pages of the cartograph like a demented butterfly, is no fun at all, especially when you decide to turn left at the crossroads and you should have turned right and are now headed in completely the wrong direction, something you only discover when you see the lights of a large metropolis ahead.

Being told in a serious voice to “Go straight down the Motorway, take the Portageway (which is not sign posted or I can’t see the sign because there is a large truck blocking it just at the crucial moment), then go round the roundabout past the post office on the left, then go straight after the sixth set of traffic lights and veer right at the mini roundabout, then go under the bridge and cross over the small lane but don’t take the first left fork, go past that fork and at the next left fork go straight and take the fifth left fork then keep right but bear left as you round the bend, which curves to the right just before you turn left as you pass the tall oak that was stuck by lightning in 1265, and if you carry on straight you can’t miss it. But if you’re leaving before the sixth moon rises above the horizon, I suggest you rather take minor route 416 and in that case go….” does not make it any easier.

And it's not only the road system that needs to be learned, there is also vocabulary, which can lead to confusion not to mention embarrassment. For instance, a robot is a mechanical thing that walks around making beeping noises intent on taking over the world. The thing that goes from red to amber to green, which I find at intersections, is called a traffic light and running over a sleeping policeman is not an incident of manslaughter after all, it’s only a speed bump.

Ah, the joys of traffic. The transportation routes are like overfilled sausages, stuffed to bursting with strange, well maintained craft beetling about. I notice at once that all of them have four wheels with the appropriate amount of tread. They are all on a mission and know exactly where they're going, unlike myself, who is still, despite these many years, devoid of any kind of navigational skill. But at least I can find my way home now, so that's comforting...