Kitty Litter

We live in a funny country. This has to be the only place in the world where we pay huge sums of money to fly off to an exotic holiday destination, and we take a giant crossword book to keep ourselves amused. What on earth is that about? I for one, having given away a fair few pictures of Her Maj, on flying to said exotic destination and do not want to be racking my brains for the answer to Obtuse buzzard eater (6) and capital of Lithuania (7) for the duration of my stay.

Then there’s the time of year we all go on holiday… why on earth do we fly off to places miles away in search of the sun. You arrive at a far-flung airport in a country that’s a few degrees cooler than North Weald was in the summer.

Our summers can be as good if not better than those of the favourite holiday destinations, so why the hell go? Why not spend the time doing your puzzle book at home - saving money that you could spend on motorsport.

And the quiz book? Use it to prop up that wonky table.

I personally blame these puzzle books for the decline in numbers of competitors and the rise in entry fees…

Puzzle books are heavy, forcing you to take a taxi to and from the airport too.

I had to use a taxi the other night to get home from the pub, being outside London there was a vast array of licensed minicab machinery from Toyotas to purpose built FX1’s from the streets of the Smoke.

So upon arriving at the front of the short queue I was dismayed to find that my carriage for the night was an Avensis. I looked longingly down the taxi rank at the line of mid range diesel saloons and estates, and there at the back was a Mercedes and a London taxi. I went to get in one of them but they said – nope you must go in front, which in this case unfortunately was a Toyota. And it smelt of vomit.

On the way home I pondered the fact that the car smelt of vomit, and realised that the London cab probably smelt of damp, because it is made in England and therefore leaks. The Mercedes probably smells of vomit like the Toyota. However, the fact that the Mercedes smelt of vomit could be forgiven because, it is a Mercedes, and that makes it better. There is one way to describe a Merc or a London cab simply and that is “better”.

Everyone would rather travel around after a few beers in a London Taxi, failing that a Benz. Not a flipping Toyota…it is offensive, and not only to the nose!

Cab drivers also are obliged to spark up some sort of conversation with the passenger – they must get so bored of the chats they have. I mean do you remember a single conversation you’ve had with a cabbie? I don’t, it’s like lift music, it belongs in cabs but is totally forgettable.

A bit like the Avensis really, which is probably quite a capable car, but totally and utterly forgettable.