. . . the need for an effective car parking policy and/or a park 'n' ride system.
Ladies, a small tip. Most, if not all, men are mentally still 16 years old. Sure, we cut the grass, make you dinner and other responsibilities, but underneath it all we still get excited by planes, trains and automobiles.
It was this line of thinking that found myself and The Demon making the 90 minute journey from Falkirk to RAF Leuchars for the 2008 Scottish Air Show held there.
I'd been preparing since early morning. The waterproof trousers were in the bag, along with the camera, big lens, spare battery and the packed lunch that The Demon had prepared (well I say prepared, but it was just 2 rolls on cheese and a 2 packets of salt 'n' vinegar McCoys. She's no Nigella).
As soon as she'd put the face on, risky given the weather conditions, it was into the ebay car, sat-nav primed with the coordinates of the base, and off we headed.
Some time later we joined the queue for the car park with the sat-nav showing 15 miles to go.
An hour later we still had 13.5 miles to go when a sudden bout of common sense hit me and I turned the car 90 degrees and came home.
I'd promised Her Demoness that I'd have her home by 5 0'clock as she's going to a discotheque in Glasgow tonight with some other middle-aged ladies, so by my estimations we'd only have had about 90 minutes at the show, missing the Avro Vulcan XH588 (surely one of the most amazing and beautiful machines ever made) which was really my sole reason for going, so it seemed a bit pointless even trying. I'm quite disappointed nonetheless.
Still, it's a pretty effective way of foiling an Al Qaeda car bomb attack.
Ladies, a small tip. Most, if not all, men are mentally still 16 years old. Sure, we cut the grass, make you dinner and other responsibilities, but underneath it all we still get excited by planes, trains and automobiles.
It was this line of thinking that found myself and The Demon making the 90 minute journey from Falkirk to RAF Leuchars for the 2008 Scottish Air Show held there.
I'd been preparing since early morning. The waterproof trousers were in the bag, along with the camera, big lens, spare battery and the packed lunch that The Demon had prepared (well I say prepared, but it was just 2 rolls on cheese and a 2 packets of salt 'n' vinegar McCoys. She's no Nigella).
As soon as she'd put the face on, risky given the weather conditions, it was into the ebay car, sat-nav primed with the coordinates of the base, and off we headed.
Some time later we joined the queue for the car park with the sat-nav showing 15 miles to go.
An hour later we still had 13.5 miles to go when a sudden bout of common sense hit me and I turned the car 90 degrees and came home.
I'd promised Her Demoness that I'd have her home by 5 0'clock as she's going to a discotheque in Glasgow tonight with some other middle-aged ladies, so by my estimations we'd only have had about 90 minutes at the show, missing the Avro Vulcan XH588 (surely one of the most amazing and beautiful machines ever made) which was really my sole reason for going, so it seemed a bit pointless even trying. I'm quite disappointed nonetheless.
Still, it's a pretty effective way of foiling an Al Qaeda car bomb attack.
