|Roman Surveyor planning my commute|
a couple of millennia ago
The dull crump of metal on metal accompanied by the crunching sound of plastic and light bulbs is one I’m aiming to avoid.
My first PGCE placement took me on a serpentine switchback drive through the wilds of North Hertfordshire, on a route punctuated by skid marks and bunches of flowers.
But my second placement to a school just north of London involves a very different commute. Appropriately for a classics teacher, my route lies along the Roman road of Watling Street. The advantage is that it is dead straight; the disadvantage is that I can therefore see just how far ahead of me the traffic jam stretches.
I am no longer fearful of colliding with a deer, but on the other hand, I have already aroused a certain amount of low-level grumpiness (beeping, flashing, you know…) by nipping into gaps that I thought were big enough for my car, but apparently nobody else did.
Saw my first crash last week (crump, crunch), but am comforted that what we’re looking at here is mainly slow-motion prangs and undramatic shunts. I’m hoping I’ll escape this, but at least, if I don’t, it’s unlikely to arise in bunches of flowers marking the spot afterwards.
So what did the Romans do for us…..?