I sat in the hairdressers’ salon this morning and the hairdresser asked me if I’d be doing anything nice at the weekend. I said yes, that I would be driving to catch the Isle of Wight ferry on Saturday morning to spend a fortnight at my caravan (Sam is staying at home to oversee plastering work being done on our house). She stopped cutting my hair and looked at me in disbelief. She told me I was very brave for even considering this 200 mile journey.

I hadn’t thought anything of it. It’s not as though I haven’t done the journey before. I’ll leave at 07:30, and it’s mostly motorway driving all the way there until I reach Portsmouth around 4 hours later. If the traffic is light I will be able to catch an earlier ferry.

My hairdresser went on to tell me that she only drives about locally, and never drives on motorways. Therein lies the problem, thought I. I think it’s good to have to drive on motorways once in a while; it builds confidence, and there’s a certain amount of satisfaction when you get to the other end. Okay, I dislike the M25, which as Chris Rea said is the road to hell, but I generally stay in the inside lane and get to the A3 turn off whenever I get there. Sam tends to change lanes a lot as though he’s on a slalom course, but hey, that’s testosterone for you. I’m happy to stay at 60 – 70 mph and listen to my music.

My spirits lift as soon as I see Portsmouth’s Spinnaker Tower looming in the distance. This time of year the journey through Portsmouth will not be as bad as in the height of summer. Anyway, I would have already traversed the M25, and nothing is as bad as that!