I try not to get cross about the world’s injustices. I certainly don’t see the point of the IW Council debating the situation in Gaza. Presidents Putin, Zelensky and Trump are unlikely to be swayed by our posturing council, are they? I try to content myself with getting cross about the smaller things, such as why school-age children need the loo during lessons. In my day, kids effortlessly hung on until break time. I’ve heard the school is trying to deal with bullying. Why aren’t parents outraged about that – or our shameful exam results?
As long as I see someone digging, I’m usually tolerant of road closures, but everyone knows they love closing the roads when the men and shovels are nowhere to be seen. Last Saturday, I was stuck on the M3 for over an hour. As I’m no longer in my teens, for 60 minutes plus, I sat there, wondering how long my bladder could hold out. Clearly, a major accident must have occurred; why else would they close the motorway in both directions? While wishing I’d carried a book, I began to see desperate drivers reversing along the hard shoulder. Others turned their cars around, and some got out and walked. Doing such things is incredibly stupid; aside from the risk of death, you could hinder emergency vehicles from getting to the scene of the incident. The M3 is a ‘smart motorway’ with numerous cameras, so it’s likely those drivers will receive a summons in due course.
That said, if I’d been on my way to a wedding or funeral, I might have been tempted to do something daft. My car was stuck near a slip road, so after an hour, I wriggled free. Other than thinking of the poor souls involved in the presumed accident, I really felt for the tens of thousands of people who, like me, had somewhere else to be. I wondered how many were stressing about missing a flight. Most southerners use the M3 to get to Heathrow or Gatwick. I always leave extra time, but not an additional three hours – who does that? Thanks to unreliable ferries and weather, many Islanders usually travel to the airport the night before, but there are limits.
Having freed myself, I had a choice of routes. I opted to go east to find every road choked with stationary traffic. Another hour passed with very little forward progress. At the time, I had no idea the powers that be had also closed the A3 southbound from the M25 junction. The jams were so horrendous; I thought of the film Falling Down, in which Michael Douglas gets stuck in a monstrous jam, triggering a murderous rampage. Any driver in my position would surely sympathise. I enjoyed the film as a kind of guilty fantasy, but thankfully, I remain unarmed – for now.
Having salvaged the day as best I could, later I tried to find out what major catastrophe had forced the closure of a major British artery, causing misery for thousands. It turned out to be a ‘medical emergency.’ To be clear, I absolutely respect our amazing emergency services and wish the sick patient well. But is it really necessary to completely close a motorway for that reason? Does the person making such a momentous decision balance the needs of the tens of thousands affected against the needs of one sick person? I really doubt it. I’m left with the sneaking suspicion that the anonymous person in charge got carried away and ordered an extended peak-hour motorway closure simply because they could.
I spotted another road closure on the Island this week. That one was caused by a burnt waffle in a household toaster. Naturally, three fire service vehicles responded. An over-reaction?
Ed’s note: We are mindful that this opinion piece mentions a medical incident on a motorway and apologise if it causes distress to anyone who has personal experience of any similar situation.