Wednesday, 10 August 2011

Traffic system not as bad as we thought?

WHAT a difference a few weeks make because attitudes seem to be changing towards Weymouth’s new traffic light system.

A short while ago the only award motorists wanted to hang round the neck of county council staff in charge of the scheme was a rope.

Now don’t get me wrong. It will still be a cold day in hell before County Hall gets offered the Freedom of the Borough, but it does appear that boiling anger has been reduced to a simmer.

A group of women chatting in a supermarket said they had been surprised at how easy it now was to use the previously notorious black spot of King Street and if it worked in the busy holiday season there might be hope for the rest of the year.

That’s as may be but, just as some people are starting to appreciate the new lights, there are an awful lot of others out there who remain to be convinced.

Using Chickerell Road into town is particularly frustrating. First there is a set of traffic lights at the railway bridge, nearby there is another set of traffic lights to control entry on to Boot Hill before there is a third set of traffic lights 50 metres on to control progress in different directions round the harbor.

It does work but I genuinely believe the old roundabout was faster and having no left turn into Chickerell Road as you come down Boot Hill is downright annoying.

Then there is the absence of a right turn at Jubilee Clock. What a lightbulb moment that must have been for the scheme!

It caught me out the first time and I had to drive right down to the Pier Bandstand before I could turn round and come back to go to the Pavilion.

As for those motorists who got it right, well the queues are still going on because you have to turn right, go along Commercial Road, turn left into Westham Road, left on to the Esplanade, right into a short holding lane and then right along the Esplanade to get to the Pavilion.

All this traffic inevitably clashes with everyone heading for a car park and shops so, yes, the system is slowly revealing its good points but as a social reformer once said: “Nothing is perfect. Life is messy.”

Staying calm behind the wheel

SCIENTISTS have now backed up something that every woman driver in Weymouth and Portland already knew... that they stay calmer than men in a traffic queue.

Evidence gleaned by testing saliva reveals that traffic queue stress levels in men are seven times higher than in women.

The first and most obvious point to make is that the scientists have clearly got it wrong.
Men are actually much calmer than women – OY, DOZY!! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? CHRISTMAS?

We don’t allow conditions to get to us – LOOK! I’VE BEEN WAITING HERE SO LONG I’VE GOT STUBBLE!


So, ladies, when you feel a bit flustered in a traffic queue, learn from the calm example set by us men AND BLOW YOUR HORN AT THE IDIOT IN FRONT!

Please drive carefully!

EVERYONE knows an area where they feel it might be a bit dodgy to live or walk through but one community actually has a sign warning visitors what to expect.

I suppose, given the nanny state we all now live in, that the community in question might feel that such a sign absolves them from any legal action which might be brought against them.

After all, in theory, visitors would only have themselves to blame if something happened to them because they went to an area they had been warned about.

The sign in question was quite specific and said -- “Please drive carefully rough village” which, to say the least, is pretty specific.

Unfortunately, of course, the rough characters this sign might be warning people about would seem to include vandals because the words had clearly been tampered with.

In reality they should have read “Please drive carefully through village”. I suppose visitors do at least know that the place does have one attraction... a village idiot!

HAS anyone seen the black sand on part of Weymouth’s beach? It’s just over by the Pavilion about a short donkey ride out near the harbor wall piling where it lies in a dark layer towards the low water mark.

The black sand was clearly attractive and I watched as a group of children used it to make some lovely sandcastles. The structures slowly emerged, taking on a sort of striped look as buckets of black sand they had spaded up were enthusiastically blended with golden sand from the main beach to form a variety of striking creations.

Their work was a picture... and so were the faces of their parents when they discovered what their offspring had been doing. Why were they so upset I hear you ask? Well, I’ll give you a clue.

The sandcastles were best enjoyed from an upwind position because of their rich and pungent aroma.

Bound to be a bit of fall out – or should I say outfall – from that!

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