Driven mad on the M11 by a convoy of selfishness

Saturday morning, I’m driving home from my son’s place. It’s a short journey, with two routes. The back way takes you down a couple of high streets. It’s shorter but gets sticky at weekends. The second is longer but often faster, involving a single junction of motorway driving.

As usual, I chose wrong. Started slowing down as soon as I got on the motorway. Trouble ahead. Slow became a crawl, became a stop-start and then came the noise of sirens in the background. Your heart sinks. In 2005, Essex police shut part of the M11 because a child dropped its cuddly tiger out of a car window. There is always the potential for nonsense with them.

Sadly, wrong again. This one was plainly serious. Patrol