The wrong Rough Fort

We were to drive from Carnlough to Derry/Londonderry. Was there anything we should see on the way?

Indeed there was. On the Limavady to Ballykelly road lay The Rough Fort - one of many donut-shaped earthworks built around a thousand years ago, and still dotting the landscape. Known as raths, they were defensive - farmers and cattle could retreat there when a raid was threatened.

The Limavady rath had been restored by the National Trust and we were eager to see it. The only drawback was that when I entered 'Rough Fort, Limavady' into Google maps, it gave us the route to a housing estate in Moira, many miles away. This happened repeatedly until Nigel grabbed the phone from me and took over.

'That's better,' he said. 

An hour later, we arrived.

Amidst new houses (which had not been visible in the NT publicity shot) nestled a large circular earthwork. We read the plaque, circled rhe earthwork, took a few snaps and got back in the car.

Then we set Google maps to Derry. But it told us that instead of being close to our destination, we were now eighty miles from it.

Despite our best efforts we had still been directed to the housing estate in Moira.

At least there had been a rath there.

But the most remarkable thing of all was that I managed not to say,

'I told you so!'

Until now, that is.

The one good thing about an eight hour drive

I visit my parents in Cornwall as often as I can.  I seem to be good at choosing a time to drive down, but bad at picking a moment to come back. 

My last two homeward journeys have been interrupted by crashes on the M5.  (I haven’t investigated to discover the nature of the accidents – I don’t want to know.)

Each time, Google maps has routed me across country to the A303.

I have travelled through thatched hamlets on narrow tracks that appeared to have been adopted only recently by the council.  I have followed a caravan which was perilously scraping the hedges on both sides.  And then I have ground to a halt detained by a new traffic jam created by all the other drivers who have been following Google’s whimsical advice.

I have often felt that Google is toying with me.  Perhaps even that my cross-country struggles are being observed by some super-villain at the heart of an IT hub, cackling “Mwah-hah-hah!”

But if there is one thing that has made the massive detours worthwhile, it is the moment on the A303 when, from around a hillock appears the magnificent, square-shouldered grey monument of Stonehenge.  It lifts my heart with its ancient presence, and the engineering achievement it represents makes me proud to be British.

Which is just as well, because if Brexit goes through, we’ll be right back to the Stone Age.