Where's the panic button???

Who would have thought that the most challenging part of trying to fit a large food shopping trip (into just under 2 hours) while Ali was at nursery, would have been finding my car in the supermarket car park. With overloaded trolley in tow I battled my way to the aisle I believed I had parked my car in, only to realise it was in the next. Now for those of you familiar with supermarket car parks you will know that there is by no means enough room to steer a trolley between cars into the next aisle. So off I trotted feeling incredibly stupid all the way down to the end of the aisle and round up to where my little car was parked. Incidentally no where near a trolley park either therefore another trip ensued back to the front of the store to replace my trolley. If only I hadn't been so honest and parked my car in one of the mother and child bays! But alas the guilt would have been too great given I had a car seat, but no child in it, at the time.

After crapping myself preparing to return to university for the first time in 2 years, I am now completely traumatised by the event. Not the day itself - the journey, as I wholeheartedly predicted. The AA Route map got me two thirds of the way, and then nothing could help me. Lost in smog-land somewhere on an industrial estate I found what I thought was the bridge I needed to cross. True to form I had found a bridge that wasn't even a proper bridge! I believe the correct terminology is 'transporter bridge'. Now given I have never seen one of these before, I was not quite prepared for its purpose. Unable to turn around and retreat I found myself on what was effectively a crane like structure with a high wire which winched and 'pullied' 9 cars on a platform across the river - hanging from wires! Wires!!! Bloody hell.....who invented that. What was wrong with a normal bridge for that given situation?? Boy was I pleased to get off that believe me. 40 minutes of searching for a car parking space led me to a back street somewhere in gangster world where my little car lay to rest under a sign which began in earnest 'motorists beware....', fabulous! Locking and securing my car as far as humanly possible, I kissed it goodbye in the event that it would no longer be there on my return, and began my search for the building to which I was due somewhere in this god forsaken place. With car where I left it and intact, the return journey led me to a spaghetti junction, during which I was praying I had managed to allocate myself to the correct lane; and following a short period of raw panic that I was travelling the wrong way along the A19 I calmed myself and realised I was seeing signs for Newcastle and the A1. Large sigh - heading back to what Ali would term 'our world'. I only have to return there once to hand in the work once this module is completed, and I sincerely hope it is the last.