Day 7, Level 1: Traffic, cars, and safety ratings

Headed home from Omaha to Auckland, dropped some stuff to Warkworth Hospice around 4pm.

Could not believe the horrific traffic I encountered that was heading north as I drove south, nearing Auckland.

From Albany to Millwater the northbound traffic was at a total standstill. It took me 10 minutes to travel south from that Millwater gridlock to the Albany standstill - I was going 100kph the whole way. Goodness only knows how long it took those poor people going north to get where they were going. How can the traffic be that bad at 4.30pm on a Monday?

Go figure. I simply can't!

As I drove along the motorway nearing home, the clouds over Epsom captivated me. I even took a sneaky photo of them while I was at a go-slow myself, approaching Market Road off-ramp. These clouds were spilling out over EGGS, my old school, that I'm involved with (Old Girls). This picture really doesn't do it justice.

Interesting cloud formations over Epsom

 

Got home at 5pm  to find Brett in bed poorly. I was rather alarmed but he didn't seem too concerned about himself. But he was obviously not well so I kept a close eye.

So while he's in bed watching TV, poorly, what else for me to do but get busy on the computer, might as well be productive, no social interaction going on here!! Could/should have stayed at Omaha and come back in the morning - I do not want to contract any bugs, for one thing!

Let's hope he's better in the morning ...

Had a wonderful late-night chat with my friend in Italy (lives in a village near Siena) and caught up on all things in her world. Another friend who'd been living in Italy (north of Naples) returned to NZ, is now out of quarantine, and gently immersing herself back into her NZ home. Love the Italian connection.

Oh, what a world! I always love hearing stories from people all over the world. And in these Covid days, it's even more intriguing than ever.

One thing I did do today was email the NZTA about those ridiculous and ludicrous advertisements that deter parents from buying their kids cars with low safety ratings and show how mangled those kids can get if they crash. It doesn't mention how mangled the other people on the road might get. These ads are under the "Right Car" premise.

Seriously, if those low rated cars are such a death-trap - GET THEM OFF THE BLOODY ROAD.

Stop people selling them. Remove them. Get rid of them.

Instead of spending a fortune on telling parents not to buy low safety rated cars (when that's possibly all they can afford) - do something practical that will make a proper difference - GET THOSE CARS OFF THE ROAD!

LUNCH: Pide bread cream cheese and freshly delivered freshly smoked Kingfish (from the neighbour) - moist, tasty and delicious. Yum.

DINNER: Malaysian curry and coleslaw.

SHARE-NOTE OF THE DAY:

The Brute ...

And talking of buying kids cars ...

At Omaha today, I came across this photo (below) of my first car - it was a Fiat 850 with a 950 motor (housed in the boot). The car was bright orange, with two black racing stripes (alas, not visible in this photo).

Our beloved Nanna died when I was 16 and she'd left us three girls some money in her will. Dad suggested buying a car with it for us girls. Given I was the only one of us with a licence at that point, I wasn't quite sure what that was about, but I was keen! And the sisters were too.

Of course it meant I could drive my sisters around - and my parents didn't have to! Nor did I have to borrow their cars any longer!  Great idea Dad!!!

We scouted about and found this very cool Fiat. I hadn't quite envisaged myself driving a racing type car - but was quickly converted! I used to drop my sisters at school (EGGS) and then go to work. I'd drive to my boyfriend's place over on the Shore. Up to Omaha (where this photo was taken). All over the show. Loved that car, although it was not an easy beast to drive. Hence the name "The Brute".

I remember breaking down a few times when the accelerator would lose its control and I'd have to coast to the side of the road and sort things out. Turned out there was a lever linked to the accelerator that sometimes got hooked out of its socket. Once I learnt this was the issue, and reasonably simple to fix, I knew what to do when it happened (quite often!) Lift the boot, put the lever back in its socket, carry on.

I remember this happening once late at night on the Harbour Bridge. I coasted to a stop (no choice as no power as no accelerator link). Hopped out, opened that boot, fixed the problem, off I went. I was 17 years old!!! I remember that moment very vividly - it was a mix of terror coz of where I was, and calmness coz I knew what to do.

I think that mix of things, early in life (and I'd had others similar) gifted me an unflappable ability to just deal with shit when it comes my way.

We called that car The Brute - for a variety of reasons.

One was that it did this accelerator thing - what a Brute of a thing!

It had pretty good noise - boy racer style - but we were girls. Girl Brutality!

And it looked grunty - with its racing stripes and "see me coming for miles" orange colour. Oh you Brute!

Oh what fun days I had driving that car around.

And then I headed to London aged 19 - and my sisters took it over.

This is a rare (it could be almost the one and only) photo of The Brute
Fiat 850 with 950 motor. Oh so 1970s!