Driving habits - strange or otherwise

To be fair, it is not only the UK which has some strange unwritten driving rules (habits).        They abound in other countries too.

No one informs visitors to Australia that an amber light at traffic lights means keep on driving, do not stop.   We stopped and a car ran into the back of our camper van, and then the driver of the car shouted abuse at us, for stopping when the lights were on amber, and just about to change to red.

In New Zealand, where the roads are very twisty, the local drivers cut corners, and then blame the tourists for driving on the wrong side of the road.   They also tail gate.   Very unnerving on the mountain roads.   But there is an official rule - it you are turning left, you must give way to the driver coming from the opposite direction, and who is turning right into the same road.     Do visitors know this?  No.   Apparently it will change soon so that it is the same as in most other countries.    But it will cause some confusion in New Zealand.

In Holland and in Belgium tailgating is a major problem.   In fact I can remember a sign in Holland reminding drivers not to be elephants.    Meaning of course that elephants walk along trunk to tail.    But it has not stopped drivers in Holland.    Some of them drive up close behind your car, and stay there until you pull over into another lane.   A very dangerous practice.  

So unwritten driving habits are everywhere.  It is not just in the United Kingdom.

However, one of the major problems in highly densely populated areas, such as around London, is that drivers become impatient.    They obviously have deadlines to meet, and become stressed so that normally polite and courteous people become rude and impatient people behind the wheels of cars.  

Mysterious driving rules.

I have been back in the UK for three weeks now, and still cannot get used to the driving rules when out in the car.   These are not the rules according to the official Rule Book, however.    They are as follows:-

When an oncoming car flashes their lights, it is an invitation for you to have first go at driving through the narrow lane between parked cars.    

Never presume that you have right of way, ever.

Always use your horn (one or two beeps), if the driver in front hesitates, or is having car problems, or slows down, or is slow to move forward at a roundabout, or makes a mistake.

When noticing a car entering a  motorway via a slip road, make sure that you drive alongside the car entering the motorway, then at the last moment hold back just little, and flash your lights, so that the driver of the car entering the motorway has to either speed up to get in front of you, or slam on their brakes.    Never ever move into the middle lane to allow easy access to the motorway or drive faster so that the car entering the motorway can easily slip in behind your car.

It is important to shrug your shoulders or shake your head or make finger signs or take both hands of the wheel and wave them about or flash your headlights at drivers who are clearly doing something that annoys you.    This is really important.   And if possible stop your car, block the other driver,  and tell him or her exactly what you think of his or her driving skills.

Amazing and mysterious.  Driving in the UK.    

The Historic Dockyard Chatham

Yesterday I took Lucy, Jackson and Isabel to visit the Historic Dockyards in Chatham.    The 80 acre site on the shores of the Medway River, contained the Royal Dockyard, where 400 years of Royal Naval history took place.   Now it is privately run, and there are historic buildings, galleries, museum, and historic warships to look at.  

Although it was a very grey and damp day (we are in England after all) we enjoyed investigating some of the areas of the Dockyard.

All the little locomotives were out in full force.   

A look at a very old helicopter.

We investigated an old warship, which contained many steep stairs, and narrow corridors.   Not for a tall person.

The Officers' Mess,  with its own bar,  plenty of room,

and very comfortable leather furniture.   Even their own fire place.    Very relaxing.   Luxury accommodation for a few men.

The O.R's (Other Ranks) quarters.   Hard seats, which convert into hard bunks, one on top of another.  No room to move.   I think there must have been a height regulation as well, no one over 5ft 10inches.  

Cramped accommodation for a large number of men.

We visited a very old warship, built in 1875.   The large wheel and bell were a great success with the children.

The old wooden warship still standing proudly in the docks.

The large very black submarine, which you can walk underneath and get a really close up view.   Isabel was not keen to go inside, so the very kind attendant organised for another parent to take Lucy and Jackson with him.   They were impressed with the fact that if you drop your mobile phone down one of the many small holes in the floor, you will not get it back again.   

The visit to the rope making building was fascinating.    A very clever actor pretended he was a foreman of the factory and talked us through the rope making process.    We all loved it.    Then we went into the very long building (1/2 mile long) where rope is still made.    Lucy and Jackson ran the length of the building.    Good exercise for them.

Then we had a quick look at a giant building, which houses very large machinery and a large boat.   The climb up the stairs to the mezzanine floor was well worth it, just for the view of these magnificent windows and roofing structures.

There is a new exhibit which focuses on the RNLI historic lifeboat collection.    Very realistic displays.

Unfortunately we had to leave as it was closing time, but looking forward to returning in the near future in order to have a good look at all the displays in the big building, as well as look at the Wooden Walls of England interactive exhibition which follows the life of an apprentice shipwright and shows how wooden warships were built.    Our tickets cover entrances to the Dockyards for a year.    Good value at £46 for one adult and three children.

Ofsted - a recurring nightmare

Last night I experienced yet again, my recurring nightmare, the second in two weeks.    And the theme is always the same. An Ofsted inspection.

Sometimes I am in charge, as a headteacher of a school, and sometimes as a teacher in a school.    In my nightmare this morning I was a teacher.    A music teacher.    Why a music teacher!    I have no expertise in this area.    And have never had any designs on being a music teacher. Yet I was a music teacher and I had organised very elaborate lessons.  Which did not impress the Ofsted inspector.  I also spent most of the nightmare running around in circles, as you do.  

I usually wake up from the nightmare feeling angry, or anxious, but then experience a great sense of relief.    I no longer have to fear Ofsted.   Hurray.   I am a survivor.   I am a retired Headteacher.  But why do I keep having Ofsted dreams.   Unresolved issues?   Perhaps I have post traumatic stress symptoms related to the trauma of past inspections.  

All my Ofsted inspections were negative experiences, and very stressful.   It is difficult to forget them.

Inspectors can be bullies.    They are usually highly trained, but probably have not been in the classroom for years.   One has to question a system, that uses inspectors that have had no recent experience.  Which then leads one to the question.  Why are these people not currently teaching in schools?   Not able to cope with the pressures in schools?    Interesting!.    Inspectors can fail a teacher, through one 10 minute lesson observation.    The inspection can fail a school, through a few lesson observations and a look at the school's paperwork.     If a school fails an inspection, the Headteacher resigns, immediately.    A negative approach to improving education in schools in England.  

No wonder I still have nightmares.  

 And one wonders what an education system that is based on fear, does for the education and welfare of its children.   Just thinking about it raises my blood pressure.  

I think I need therapy.

Kitchen reorganisation

Or in other words, how to gain a new updated look, and better organisation and efficiency, without spending much money.   I like this approach, much easier than spending a fortune on a new kitchen and putting up with the mess at the same time.

Of course we did spend money on a trip to Australia and New Zealand, and lived with people who had super efficient kitchens.    We enjoyed this so much better.

The first job, reorganisation of the contents of two of the cupboards.

The booze went into the laundry basket.    Only a temporary measure of course.   Some of the bottles have not seen the light of day for years.    Does alcohol have a use by date?   Should we have a party to get rid of some of the contents of these bottles?   But how did we collect so many bottles?   How did they multiply? I will blame our guests.  Certainly not our doing.

 On with the glass identification glass bracelets.   Just so that you know which glass is yours and to stop people drinking other people's wine.     Wine drinkers can be very careless or very greedy, and you find that suddenly there is no wine left in your glass.    Someone else has drunk it.    

 No longer will I have to reach across Walter, who is trying to make sandwiches or coffee, to get a plate out of the cupboard.  I have moved the plates from the corner cupboard.   Instead he will have his beer glasses and coffee cups. at his fingertips.   Plus all his special chocolate shakers and milk jugs for lattes and cappuccinos.   Walter will have to put another shelf on the top right of the cupboard to hold the rest of his coffee cups.   And what an assortment we have, once hidden behind all the glasses.    Super efficiency here.  

 And this cupboard now has all the plates and serving dishes, with just the wine glasses left on top.   I can see what I have and so beautifully spread out.    And close to the dishwasher.   Super efficiency, again.

 The next job, which does involve Walter's co-operation, and he is keen, is to build shelves so that they go right around the walls of this cupboard.   And each shelf will be on the same level.    And no ironing board in here.   Maybe I will have to get rid of the ironing board.   No ironing.    Great.   That will save time.

Then a trip to Ikea.   Oh I do love this shop.   I am going to buy plastic containers (all the same size) to put all the cooking ingredients in (yes I do intend to spend time cooking), and racks to put casserole dishes on, and magazine racks so I can stand all my baking trays up, and any other kitchen friendly stacker organiser that I can find.   I am even going to buy a container to hold all the silver cutlery, which have been languishing in plastic bags for years.    Of course there is a downside to using silver cutlery,which is the 'no dishwasher' policy and the cleaning.   At least I can look at them.  

And then to finish off, I am going to paint the cupboards and get new door handles.   Because we stayed in two houses, where people painted their laminated cupboards and it worked.   They looked great.  

And then it will all match our new and expensive coffee machine.  

Travelling is great for gaining new ideas.    And most of all, thank you Conny, for all your help, in re-organising our kitchen.  

Petrol into diesel

 We finally did it!    We put petrol into a diesel car.   After all this time, all the different cars that we have owned, all the different cars that we have hired when travelling, we have finally made a mistake.   In a funny sort of way, we are satisfied, at least we have done it, given that the law of averages meant that one day we would forget which car we were in and put the wrong fuel in.  Thank goodness it is not possible to put diesel into a petrol car in the UK so at least that scenario has been eliminated.

It was Walter who actually put the hose into the tank of the Citroen, and filled the tank with petrol.   Two thirds of a tank.    In his defence he had been putting petrol into cars for the past four months in Australia and New Zealand.    And was distracted because he was on the way to court for jury service.   For my part, I have no defence.   I was probably sitting in the car playing solitaire on my telephone, instead of watching the pump.  

Well the car ran beautifully to the courts in Thamesmead, where I dropped Walter off.   And it was okay until I accelerated up a hill, and then the car started to splutter, hiccup and shudder.  I fleetingly thought about the fuel,  but I was too intent on getting to the dentist to seriously consider such a possibility.   Although I had trouble starting the car after the visit to the dentist, I persisted, and the car spluttered into life.  I sensibly drove home, rather than meet Kathy and Fred for lunch, with the car shuddering and hiccuping and surging all the way.    And at home I waited and waited and it was not until 4.30 that I finally was able to ring Walter, and he owned up to using the green hose rather than the black hose.  

So of course, we spent the evening researching the internet to find out the possible damage of mixing petrol with diesel.    And it was not good news.    By the time we went to bed, we had visions of £1,000's of pounds of damage, new engine, petrol eating away at pipes etc, etc.   Walter found it difficult to sleep.   Our poor car.    Our even poorer bank balance.

So with nervous trepidation I set out to drive the car to the local garage.   As I had already driven it the day before, driving another few miles was not going to add to the damage.   So after a few coughs and splutters and lots of black smoke the car hiccuped and shuddered out onto the main road, where it suddenly came to life and took off.    Jet propelled.    Such power.    I thought I was going to take off and fly.   I managed to turn a corner at 20 mph, and luckily there were no cars in sight, which was unusually for the time of day.

The owner of the garage was not fazed, at all.  I did set the records straight though and said that it was Walter who had put the petrol into the car.   Why is it that garage owners always think it is the woman's fault.

I was given this speedy little Suziki to use.    I loved it, even though it did not have power steering, which is very useful for parking and I am not very good at that anyway.

The end result.   Well, I found out that our insurance covered us for the occasions that we might put petrol into the diesel car.   Great insurance company.    That was good news.

But in the end the mechanics drained the fuel out, replaced the fuel filter, gave it advanced diesel treatment, drained the car again, put in some more diesel and drained it yet again, and hey presto the car was as good as new.   And it only cost £230.  I did not even get a chance to really try out the speedy Suzuki.

And it appears that there are many horror stories around, which people believe of course, us included.   Apparently we still had enough diesel in the car to protect all its parts.    And the car was still going.  But if we had taken the car to a Citroen dealer, there was a big chance they would replace as much as they could and charge accordingly.    Especially if the car is still under guarantee.   And the cost would have been thousands of pounds.

So the moral of the story is, if you do find yourself in such a situation, and many people do, then do not panic, even if you drive it with the incorrect fuel in it.   If the car is still running, than there will be little damage.   Of course if it seizes up completely that is a different story.   Best not to think of that story.

Of course the most sensible thing, is to check that the hose you are holding in your hand will deliver diesel, not petrol, to your diesel car.  

But no one is infallible!  As we found out.

Wedding dresses

On Saturday we had a girls day out, looking at dresses for Donna's forthcoming wedding.   Not that I am much use regarding advice in the wedding dress department, but it was lovely being with Donna, Emma and Lucy.    

The wedding dress shop that we visited was amazing.    I have never seen so many dresses and  styles.   I was also amazed at the ages of people looking at wedding dresses.    Once it was the young twenty something looking to get married.    Not these days.   Some of the prospective brides were youngish but many had children with them, or were the more mature types, i.e. closer to my age (take a few years off of course).   All very interesting.

First we travelled from Swanley to Bromley by train, which I found was much quicker than by car, so must remember to do this more often.

Donna and Lucy waiting on the train.

Donna and I looking very happy about having a day out shopping.

After meeting up with Emma, the first stop was for coffee.    Of course.    We needed our caffeine fix before we started.

I forgot to take photos of some of the dresses, obviously too busy taking it all in, or being overwhelmed by the experience. 


I must admit that I am guilty of playing a few games of Solitaire on my telephone, just to fill in a bit of time.  But mostly I did take an interest, and I did make a few recommendations, but left it mostly to Emma to offer advice.   She has more expertise.     

It was a lovely dressing up day for Emma and Lucy too, as they tried on lots of pretty bridesmaids dresses.   Perhaps I should have got into the act too.    Mother of bride outfits perhaps!     The few I saw, were certainly not my style.  And not worth having to change out of my winter clothes.

But on reflection, perhaps I could have tried on a few brides dresses, and maybe Walter and I could retake our vows.    I could have a chance to wear an ivory wedding dress (I think white might be taking it too far), and lacy veil, seeing that I wore a bright pink suit when we got married.    The bright pink was more 60's contemporary, or rebellion, I am not sure which.    Don't worry, Walter and the family, I am just joking.   

Donna has chosen a lovely simple dress, but I cannot describe it, otherwise I would be giving the game away.