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If so, then please tell.

Mine happened three weeks ago when I left for a Hustings meeting In the lovely Devonshire town of Crediton.

I left Bristol at 2 pm for the 6 pm meeting with three people who can be trusted In polite circles. They consisted of the driver, Brian, an 87 year old Councillor, Janet, a maiden aunt type school Invigilator and Peter, a civil servant.

Peter being 6ft 5" sat in the front with the seat back for added leg room which meant that the Skoda we were travelling In forced my knee's under my chin for the entire journey. We were sharing the fuel costs so I couldn't complain.

We got there perfectly well and enjoyed the meeting, stopping for a while after to chat to the leader and his challenger.

Leaving Crediton around 11.30 pm, we were all very tired but knew or thought we would be home In two hours or so. Wrong.

Brian took a wrong turning coming out of Crediton and we started to head Into the Devonshire countryside. He should have headed for Exeter to get on the motorway and the M5 South bound.

Throughout this entire episode, we regually stopped to re-set the sat nav, only to be told In a voice that I swear became more condescending as we went on, 'You have taken a wrong turning'.

On we drove through roads that became narrower and narrower as we went. At one point, It was suggested that the best thing was to turn around and re-trace our steps. Brian took another wrong turning and again we headed into the pitch black abyss of no street signs, houses or street lamps. The only signs we saw reminded us to be beware of loose cattle.

An hour and a half passed and by then we were all losing the will to live and getting hungry. By luck not judgement, we exited on to a main road with a garage. Filling Brian up with strong coffee, we were relieved that we would be home soon.

We got onto the motorway and then, there like a punch In the face was the signs saying ' M5 Southbound closed. Follow diversions'.

Brian missed the diversion and once again we headed Into the Devonshire Countryside.

Again, the roads became narrower and narrower, no street signs or lights but an abundance of local Foxes with what appeared to be suicidal tendancies, leapt regually In front of the car. Knowing I would kill him In the blink of an eye should he hit one, Brian became a rally driver In order to miss the Foxes.

Another hour passed and the only sign we saw In the blackness of the night and the headlights was for the moors.

By now, I was getting quite frightened, Janet had turned Into a back seat driver and Peter had begun to swear at Janet. Brian's fuel tank was In question and we begun to argue over the last Cornish Pasty that no-body wanted on the Journey before the meeting. We continued to stop and re-set the sat nav and this time, I swear it was laughing as It said 'You have taken a wrong turning'.

My knee's were beginning to morph Into my chin and my polite suggestion that we stop someone for directions was met with howls of 'Who the bloody hell are we going to see out here In the middle of the night' along with Brian asking If anyone had a compass because then at least we would know where we were heading.

By 2 am, I phoned my husband and told him not to wait up because we were still In Devon and no-one had a clue where although Janet seemed to recall someone being murdered with an axe In and around those parts a few years back.

Again, only by luck, we exited onto a main road and how we cheered heartedly? Until Janet said 'Hang on... Isn't that the garage where we got the coffee miles back ?

In we went again, more strong coffee for Brian and set off again although why Brian felt the need to take the roundabout four times just to be sure, I will never know.

getting onto the motorway again, we all threatened to kill Brian should he miss the diversion sign again so he slowed down to 30 mph where we were then subjected to obscene gestures by passing lorries and cars.

We finally got to Bristol at 4.30 am and we all had to get up and go to North London for the same thing the next day.

Any number including a slow tour of the Catalonian countryside trying to get from the centre of Barcelona to the airport on the outskirts - needless to say we missed our 'plane, it was the last flight that day (apart from an Iberian scheduled flight they wanted £350 each for) and we had to find a hotel and fly back the next day. Cost? About £350 plus a day's lost earnings

I can see your problem though, the M5 stops at Exeter and you needed the M5 Northbound to get back to Bristol - oops :wah:

I hope the London trip wasn't in the same Skoda - one cramped journey would be enough for anyone.

Did I welcome you back yet Oscar ? Welcome back anyway.......

I once took a Bus trip from Perth to Victoria on New Years day, I was on an aisle seat halfway down the bus with a clear view of the drivers face in the central rear view mirror.

After a while I was sure the driver was drooping....... hypnotised by the movement of the central reservation, his head kept turning as if he were counting the posts......or something.....like a nodding dog, I was sure his eyes were drooping closed.

Of course I tried to ignore my first thoughts, but without much else to look at my own eyes were drawn back to the rhythmic swaying of his head and whether or not his eyes were open or closed. I fought with myself to ignore him, but just couldn't ignore the way his head kept moving from side to side.

After a lot of convincing myself I was right, I mentioned to the trolley dolly bloke that the driver might need some coffee. The driver did then get some coffee, but they then covered the mirror so I couldn't watch the drivers face.

I obviously arrived safely but I vowed never ever to travel from Scotland by bus ever again, especially on New Years day.

Bruv;1364513 wrote: Did I welcome you back yet Oscar ? Welcome back anyway.......

I once took a Bus trip from Perth to Victoria on New Years day, I was on an aisle seat halfway down the bus with a clear view of the drivers face in the central rear view mirror.

After a while I was sure the driver was drooping....... hypnotised by the movement of the central reservation, his head kept turning as if he were counting the posts......or something.....like a nodding dog, I was sure his eyes were drooping closed.

Of course I tried to ignore my first thoughts, but without much else to look at my own eyes were drawn back to the rhythmic swaying of his head and whether or not his eyes were open or closed. I fought with myself to ignore him, but just couldn't ignore the way his head kept moving from side to side.

After a lot of convincing myself I was right, I mentioned to the trolley dolly bloke that the driver might need some coffee. The driver did then get some coffee, but they then covered the mirror so I couldn't watch the drivers face.

I obviously arrived safely but I vowed never ever to travel from Scotland by bus ever again, especially on New Years day. I've seen that nodding, swaying driver's head before.... It was Brian., hence the strong coffee.

According to my wife, every single shortcut I've taken has been a nightmare journey.

Bruv;1364513 wrote: Did I welcome you back yet Oscar ? Welcome back anyway.......

I once took a Bus trip from Perth to Victoria on New Years day, I was on an aisle seat halfway down the bus with a clear view of the drivers face in the central rear view mirror.

After a while I was sure the driver was drooping....... hypnotised by the movement of the central reservation, his head kept turning as if he were counting the posts......or something.....like a nodding dog, I was sure his eyes were drooping closed.

Of course I tried to ignore my first thoughts, but without much else to look at my own eyes were drawn back to the rhythmic swaying of his head and whether or not his eyes were open or closed. I fought with myself to ignore him, but just couldn't ignore the way his head kept moving from side to side.

After a lot of convincing myself I was right, I mentioned to the trolley dolly bloke that the driver might need some coffee. The driver did then get some coffee, but they then covered the mirror so I couldn't watch the drivers face.

I obviously arrived safely but I vowed never ever to travel from Scotland by bus ever again, especially on New Years day.


For a minute there I thought you meant perth australia to Victora australia and was amazed you could do it in a day. I too have been on that bus to London, 4am in charnock richard services is an experience one should not repeat if possible.

Welcome back Oscar great story. I myself have the ability to always know where I'm at all times I'm a human compass ..!!

YZGI;1364520 wrote: According to my wife, every single shortcut I've taken has been a nightmare journey.


Ah, shortcuts are another matter :-

Picture the scene on a sunny spring afternoon, my wife, who was eight months pregnant with our youngest, was feeling shut in after a rainy week and wanted a walk in the woods so, ever obliging, off we went - slowly.

After about half an hour in the woods, turning from one path to the next, we came upon a badger set and spent a while ohhing and ahhing over it. Then, looking at the lowering sun, we decided it was time to go home.

Now after about five minutes walking I'm thinking "this path should be bigger than the last one, not smaller". After ten minutes we're both thinking "we're lost" and knowing damn'd well we're not likely to see the exit before dark at the rate we're going.

"It's OK", says I, "we came in there, circled round that way, so we're here now. If we just cut across that way it can't be far to the road" - famous last words.

The logic was right, the direction was (nearly) correct - I just hadn't counted on the ditches and brambles on the way. Or the bogs where it had been raining for the past week.

When we finally emerged, in the pitch dark, some time later, silence was the best option all round - I was not flavour of the month to say the least.



It went from bad to worse about a week later when our car wouldn't start, a not unusual occurrence but this time it was in the dark.

No problem, sit my wife in the passenger seat, push off down the hill (smart bit of pre-planning that) and drop the clutch when we'd picked up a bit of speed. Trouble was with a flat battery I couldn't put the lights on so I couldn't see how far down the hill I was going. When I dropped the clutch and the engine fired it was just in time to see the brick wall at the end of the garages was about a foot in front of us - then it was underneath us lying flat on the drive and I though the baby would arrive there and then.

Luckily I'd managed to keep the engine running and the car was undamaged. To my shame I reversed off, turned round and legged it before anyone came out to see what the noise was. I do not think my wife has forgiven me for that escapade to this day but happily our daughter was born a few weeks after (fashionably late) none the worse for the experience.

Bryn Mawr;1364526 wrote: Ah, shortcuts are another matter :-

Picture the scene on a sunny spring afternoon, my wife, who was eight months pregnant with our youngest, was feeling shut in after a rainy week and wanted a walk in the woods so, ever obliging, off we went - slowly.

After about half an hour in the woods, turning from one path to the next, we came upon a badger set and spent a while ohhing and ahhing over it. Then, looking at the lowering sun, we decided it was time to go home.

Now after about five minutes walking I'm thinking "this path should be bigger than the last one, not smaller". After ten minutes we're both thinking "we're lost" and knowing damn'd well we're not likely to see the exit before dark at the rate we're going.

"It's OK", says I, "we came in there, circled round that way, so we're here now. If we just cut across that way it can't be far to the road" - famous last words.

The logic was right, the direction was (nearly) correct - I just hadn't counted on the ditches and brambles on the way. Or the bogs where it had been raining for the past week.

When we finally emerged, in the pitch dark, some time later, silence was the best option all round - I was not flavour of the month to say the least.



It went from bad to worse about a week later when our car wouldn't start, a not unusual occurrence but this time it was in the dark.

No problem, sit my wife in the passenger seat, push off down the hill (smart bit of pre-planning that) and drop the clutch when we'd picked up a bit of speed. Trouble was with a flat battery I couldn't put the lights on so I couldn't see how far down the hill I was going. When I dropped the clutch and the engine fired it was just in time to see the brick wall at the end of the garages was about a foot in front of us - then it was underneath us lying flat on the drive and I though the baby would arrive there and then.

Luckily I'd managed to keep the engine running and the car was undamaged. To my shame I reversed off, turned round and legged it before anyone came out to see what the noise was. I do not think my wife has forgiven me for that escapade to this day but happily our daughter was born a few weeks after (fashionably late) none the worse for the experience.


Mercy, thanks for having to explain to my employees why I was laughing out loud..

What a grand story, Bryn!

chonsigirl;1364546 wrote: What a grand story, Bryn!


My wife didn't think so at the time :wah:

Bryn Mawr;1364551 wrote: My wife didn't think so at the time :wah:


As a very young child on long car journey's with my parents, I can recall my Mother saying on several occasions... ' Apparently, your Father knows exactly where we are' followed by a tut and a long sigh.

oscar;1364556 wrote: As a very young child on long car journey's with my parents, I can recall my Mother saying on several occasions... ' Apparently, your Father knows exactly where we are' followed by a tut and a long sigh.


When I was four we were driving from Lancashire to Bristol and, for reasons that I forget, we were driving down the Fosse. We'd had a puncture and it was very late (dark) and my father convinced himself he was lost. When he asked if anyone has seen a sign saying Fosse Way I piped up, very happy to be helpful, "yes, there was one pointing that way".

Pa dutifully turned the car round and drove back a mile or two and found the sign - pointing the way we'd being going. I was so happy that he'd found the sign I'd seen - I couldn't understand why he wasn't