With summer fading away, I find myself suddenly faced with a huge amount of travelling as I set off for Booksignings at Waterstones near and far. Obviously, they're not in China but they might as well be. England can become a hugely ungainly beast when you need to circumnavigate it. In the south-west we are miles from anywhere, the distances on a signpost appear to be doubled and can take forever, as you crawl along obeying an unremitting series of 20 and 30 mph signs. The eternal debate living here is: do I waste time driving 27 miles to reach a motorway or go across country?
Once upon a time going across country was an fillip to the soul, an enjoyable adventure. Now, it's the disagreeable alternative to driving in convoy along the motorway; as roads are closed with gay abandon, diverting traffic miles in the opposite direction.
I am sure by the time I have carried out a few of the Saturday signings, I will be putting my house up for sale and moving to a town, where there's a railway station.
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