J. R. R. TOLKIEN (As Bilbo Baggins), The Fellowship of the Ring
For the first time in many years we are remaining at Snail Towers and not venturing forth with the Snail at the beginning of June. It feels strange, but you know how it is, there's stuff that needs doing at home and so here we are, still here.
We're feeling the pull of the road though, which put me in mind of the above quotation - roads are seductive things. In The Fellowship of The Ring Bilbo goes on to observe that the same little road that goes past Bag End in Hobbiton is the same road that, eventually leads through Mirkwood to the Lonely Mountain where the Dragon Smaug once kept his hoard and ravaged the town of Dale.
In other words, roads lead to adventure!
It's a trope that has persisted throughout the twentieth century and into the twentyfirst, through all forms of fiction from Jack Kerouac to Mad Max -via the Blues Brothers and who knows what else? What are the delightfully silly and insanely popular Fast and Furious movies about if not the love of the road?*
And so, sitting here in Snail Towers, I find myself reflecting on old Bilbo's words. Just as the road outside Bag End led ultimately to the Lonely Mountain, and as young Frodo would later discover, also through Rohan, and Moria, and Minas Tirith to the heart of Mordor, the road outside Snail Towers will lead us along an unbroken ribbon of asphalt to Bunree and Altnaharra, to Leek and Buxton, to Minehead and Hastings - to wherever we want to go.
The lure of the road is pretty well irresistable - as I've always said, one of the joys of the caravan lifestyle is the getting to the destination, not just the destination itself.
It's fair to say though, that not all roads are created equal.
If you read the post I wrote about The Long, High Road way back in November 2012, and the four sequel posts that made up High Road North Series in August the following year then you'll already know some of my favourites.
The A66 between Scotch Corner and Penrith, for example, sports a tank base (although we've never actually seen a tank there we continue to live in hope), castles, and some breathtaking scenery as you descend from the heights of the Pennines into the lowlands of Cumbria, and then on towards the hills of the Lake District - taking you, at least in part along the old Roman Road which gives you at least a little bit of a sense of history.
Then there's the A82, across the splendour of Rannoch Moor, through Glencoe and along the Great Glen. The magnivicent twenty odd miles of desolation between Lairg and Altnaharra, the A836 which runs almost the entire length of Scotland from Durness in the West to John O' Groats in the East, and provides some astonishing views of the coast and sea lochs of the far, far north. Mind you, John O'Groats is a massively disappointing place, so you probably don't want to go all the way to the end...
There are of course many other roads that are far less attractive. Not a big fan of the A9 south of Inverness, for example. There are few roads in the country more desperate to become dual carriageways! In our pre-caravan days the A9 was our original route to Inverness on the way up to Assynt. I don't think we ever drove that route - in either direction - without getting stuck for miles and miles behind a succession of slow moving lorries and tractors. And for the record - I have no memories of ever getting stuck behind a caravan.
It was frustration with driving in long, bad tempered convoys that made us switch from the East Coast route north to the West Coast route north which we now know as "the long high road".
Not that the long high road is totally perfect. The stretch of the A74/M74 between the boarders and Glasgow is pretty featureless for a start, and although the A82 features many fine views, like the A9 is suffers badly from being not really big enough to take the volume of traffic it now has to accomodate. As you drive towards Fort William there are many signs demanding an upgrade - and I have to say that if the A82 was in the South East of England it would probably be at least a dual carriageway and maybe even a motorway by now.
The same can be said of the A1 as it runs through Northumberland. A lot of money and effort has gone into the upgrading of this historic arterial route though Yorkshire (which of course is only fitting - Yorkshire deserves nothing but the best) so that it's a three lane motorway all the way though England's greatest county. But once you hit Northumberland it's not only not motorway, most of it is not even dual carriageway! Given that the road doesn't much less busy through the far north east of England than it is through Yorkshire this seems more than a little unfair.
And of course, there is the abomination that is the M25. There's a joke in the book Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman that a demon altered the course of London's "orbital motorway" so that it forms "the sigil *odegra* in the language of the Black Priesthood of Ancient Mu, and means 'Hail the Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds'." Well, people say it was a joke. Having driven along it with a caravan on the back personally I can believe that this is true.
I mean, intellectually I know it's just a very big ring road. But seriously, if you're looking for the most benighted stretch of tarmac in the world, you don't need to look much further. The surface is frequently terrible, the traffic is awful - I got the impression that every single other motor vehicle was deliberately trying to kill everybody else and if you find yourself on the eastern half you have to contend with the Dartford Crossing.
Yikes.
We took the Snail to Essex once (a much maligned county which we found to be beautiful) and had to brave the Dartford Crossing. You'd think it would be easy. It's a road that goes over a bridge. How hard can that be?
Well, somebody seems to have engineered the whole thing so that you can't avoid getting into the wrong lane at the toll booths, and at the same time devised a method of forcing you to join the traffic from the other toll booths at such an angle that you can't quite see what's coming. I mean, if they'd done that on purpose it would be a work of genius! As it is, well, let's just say we really enjoyed our trip to Essex, but we've not been back...
These are all details though. There is more to the idea of "the road" than mere geography and civil engineering.
The Road (and it deserves the capitalisation) is freedom. It can take you away from where you are to where you want to be. You might be driving to work in the morning. You might not be looking forward to the day. But you can take comfort in the fact that if you turn left instead of right at that junction the road doesn't have to take you to work, it can take you quite literally anywhere. You won't, of course, but you can. And if you've got a caravan on the back you can go as far as you like.
As Tolkien put it:
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.
Roads go ever ever on,
Under cloud and under star.
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen,
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green,
And trees and hills they long have known.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone.
Let others follow, if they can!
Let them a journey new begin.
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
Still 'round the corner there may wait
A new road or secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.
*And I bet that's the first time anyone's ever referenced that paeon of praise to the petrolhead in a blog about caravans...
And so, sitting here in Snail Towers, I find myself reflecting on old Bilbo's words. Just as the road outside Bag End led ultimately to the Lonely Mountain, and as young Frodo would later discover, also through Rohan, and Moria, and Minas Tirith to the heart of Mordor, the road outside Snail Towers will lead us along an unbroken ribbon of asphalt to Bunree and Altnaharra, to Leek and Buxton, to Minehead and Hastings - to wherever we want to go.
The lure of the road is pretty well irresistable - as I've always said, one of the joys of the caravan lifestyle is the getting to the destination, not just the destination itself.
It's fair to say though, that not all roads are created equal.
If you read the post I wrote about The Long, High Road way back in November 2012, and the four sequel posts that made up High Road North Series in August the following year then you'll already know some of my favourites.
The A66 between Scotch Corner and Penrith, for example, sports a tank base (although we've never actually seen a tank there we continue to live in hope), castles, and some breathtaking scenery as you descend from the heights of the Pennines into the lowlands of Cumbria, and then on towards the hills of the Lake District - taking you, at least in part along the old Roman Road which gives you at least a little bit of a sense of history.
Then there's the A82, across the splendour of Rannoch Moor, through Glencoe and along the Great Glen. The magnivicent twenty odd miles of desolation between Lairg and Altnaharra, the A836 which runs almost the entire length of Scotland from Durness in the West to John O' Groats in the East, and provides some astonishing views of the coast and sea lochs of the far, far north. Mind you, John O'Groats is a massively disappointing place, so you probably don't want to go all the way to the end...
There are of course many other roads that are far less attractive. Not a big fan of the A9 south of Inverness, for example. There are few roads in the country more desperate to become dual carriageways! In our pre-caravan days the A9 was our original route to Inverness on the way up to Assynt. I don't think we ever drove that route - in either direction - without getting stuck for miles and miles behind a succession of slow moving lorries and tractors. And for the record - I have no memories of ever getting stuck behind a caravan.
It was frustration with driving in long, bad tempered convoys that made us switch from the East Coast route north to the West Coast route north which we now know as "the long high road".
Not that the long high road is totally perfect. The stretch of the A74/M74 between the boarders and Glasgow is pretty featureless for a start, and although the A82 features many fine views, like the A9 is suffers badly from being not really big enough to take the volume of traffic it now has to accomodate. As you drive towards Fort William there are many signs demanding an upgrade - and I have to say that if the A82 was in the South East of England it would probably be at least a dual carriageway and maybe even a motorway by now.
The same can be said of the A1 as it runs through Northumberland. A lot of money and effort has gone into the upgrading of this historic arterial route though Yorkshire (which of course is only fitting - Yorkshire deserves nothing but the best) so that it's a three lane motorway all the way though England's greatest county. But once you hit Northumberland it's not only not motorway, most of it is not even dual carriageway! Given that the road doesn't much less busy through the far north east of England than it is through Yorkshire this seems more than a little unfair.
And of course, there is the abomination that is the M25. There's a joke in the book Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman that a demon altered the course of London's "orbital motorway" so that it forms "the sigil *odegra* in the language of the Black Priesthood of Ancient Mu, and means 'Hail the Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds'." Well, people say it was a joke. Having driven along it with a caravan on the back personally I can believe that this is true.
I mean, intellectually I know it's just a very big ring road. But seriously, if you're looking for the most benighted stretch of tarmac in the world, you don't need to look much further. The surface is frequently terrible, the traffic is awful - I got the impression that every single other motor vehicle was deliberately trying to kill everybody else and if you find yourself on the eastern half you have to contend with the Dartford Crossing.
Yikes.
We took the Snail to Essex once (a much maligned county which we found to be beautiful) and had to brave the Dartford Crossing. You'd think it would be easy. It's a road that goes over a bridge. How hard can that be?
Well, somebody seems to have engineered the whole thing so that you can't avoid getting into the wrong lane at the toll booths, and at the same time devised a method of forcing you to join the traffic from the other toll booths at such an angle that you can't quite see what's coming. I mean, if they'd done that on purpose it would be a work of genius! As it is, well, let's just say we really enjoyed our trip to Essex, but we've not been back...
These are all details though. There is more to the idea of "the road" than mere geography and civil engineering.
The Road (and it deserves the capitalisation) is freedom. It can take you away from where you are to where you want to be. You might be driving to work in the morning. You might not be looking forward to the day. But you can take comfort in the fact that if you turn left instead of right at that junction the road doesn't have to take you to work, it can take you quite literally anywhere. You won't, of course, but you can. And if you've got a caravan on the back you can go as far as you like.
As Tolkien put it:
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.
Roads go ever ever on,
Under cloud and under star.
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen,
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green,
And trees and hills they long have known.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone.
Let others follow, if they can!
Let them a journey new begin.
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.
Still 'round the corner there may wait
A new road or secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.
*And I bet that's the first time anyone's ever referenced that paeon of praise to the petrolhead in a blog about caravans...
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