I've just remembered how much I dislike tractors.
Yesterday I took the back way down to Oxford (and it appears to have been the right choice, given that the M40 was dealing with invasion of cows and diesel). This would have been fine, except for the tractor. There's always one.
It's bad enough that there are variable speed limits to slow me down. 50, 30, 50, 30, 30, speed cameras here there and everywhere... This tractor was particularly annoying because it was being followed by a car transporter and several other vehicles, and then in front of me was a car who seemed incapable of making up the 50m gap between itself and the car in front. To top it all I was being followed by a dark green Ford Focus driven by what looked like Cruella de Vil herself, complete with black driving gloves (only minus the fur!).
Cruella was possibly more irritated than I was at the hold up and moved menacingly towards me at certain points on the road. I did expect her to overtake me dangerously on the road out of Woodstock (a place my Father chooses to forget owing to an incident with an overzealous speed camera many years ago), and I almost willed her to risk her life and get out of mine. See, even Christians have bad thoughts sometimes... ;-) However, she may have looked evil, but was in fact patient enough to wait until the duel carriageway before zooming past...
And then the relief of finally making it the Oxford Park and Ride, and a short trip in to meet Nats, who had made the most of my delays by eyeing up most of Debenhams home dept. I would have been quicker to meet her had I not got confused when I got off the bus and marched half-way across Oxford to meet her only to discover that where I thought Debenhams was, it was in fact BHS.
Gutted.
But I refused to look like a tourist so I had to run around looking for a map in order to educate myself as to the real whereabouts of Debenhams.
It was, as predicted, opposite the bus stop where I had previously alighted...
