WE were down in Glasgow this weekend, to catch up with R's cousins who were over from Canada as one of the kids was swimming in the International Children's Games (she achieved a personal best every time she swam - well done Katrina!)
Anyway, R had bought (yet another) satnav machine. Now, I have a bit of history with those machines. For a start I don't like them. I agree they occasionally have a use, but I don't trust them. I'd much rather use a map. The last one we bought in Duty Free on the way to Sardinia was so we could use it on holiday as we were driving around a bit there. Unfortunately the first evening, as I pried it off the windscreen, it suddenly pinged off, flew under the seat and hit the metal bar underneath, smashing the screen. Oh boy, R was furious! And for the record, I really DIDN'T do it on purpose!
Anyway, I sniped at the new one most of the way down and was delighted (well not really but my point was proved) when it took us all to the middle of a housing estate in Mount Vernon instead of to Candleriggs in the Merchant City for our dinner. See? Not to be trusted!
Thus on the way back today when it was my turn to drive, I requested that the bleedin' thing (which had been mispronouncing all the street names all morning) be removed as I kind of know the way home! And what happened? For the first time in 12 years I missed the Stirling exit! I have no idea what I was thinking - I don't think I was thinking at all - just mosying along the M8. So the hated machine reappeared and I had to use it til at least we got over the Forth Road Bridge. Sigh - the shame!
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