Road Works

Good morning,

In the U.S. you are all, no doubt, sharing in the glory that is Construction Season.  In England we too have our share, however, you would NEVER believe ‘road works’ in this country.  First of all, if you can imagine, the streets are completely closed.  No access to businesses.  No flaggers or temporary lights to allow traffic through, albeit slowly.  They will close a two-mile stretch of road for a week or two even though they will only work one block at a time. If you are the unfortunate owner of a small business at the far end of the planned construction, the road in front of your business is likely to be completely closed to all traffic for a full week to 10 days before the construction crews reach your section of road. 

The construction companies start later in the morning than back home, they break for lunch and tea and wrap up their days about 4:30.  There are no detour signs.  No one works at night.   The thing that I find impossible to understand is that business owners don’t complain!  The Brits still carry the attitude of  ‘make do and mend’.  People ask me, when I enquire about business, what construction is like in Chicago.  Ha!  Political elections (and in all likelihood lives) would be lost if construction was handled in this manner.  Here, the mild mannered English shrug and say, ‘But what can we do?’

The construction has put even more bikes on the road.  Bikes and motorcycles are such a danger here.  They do not follow motoring rules of the road.  Motorcyclists are able to be both vehicle and pedestrian simultaneously and I cannot tell you how dangerous this makes the narrow roads. 

On our block alone this week, there have been three bicyclists hit by cars (One cyclist hit and thrown off his bike just two feet in front of M and me one morning-thankfully he was shaken and sore, but okay.  He had dropped off his five-year-old daughter who had been riding on the back of the bike, just minutes before at school.).  Judging by the squealing of bike brakes and abusive language, a fourth one was narrowly avoided this morning. 

We are blessed to live in town where my car is hardly driven (I have the privilege of WALKING through street construction.  With all the construction workers, this is, either degrading or ego boosting, I haven’t figured out which.).  Because my car is small and rarely used, I fill up my tank only every couple of months; so infrequently, in fact, it is the warning light on the dashboard that reminds me-a trait J finds much more than frustrating-but have I EVER run out of gas?  No.  I’m in no hurry to fill up. Petrol is about $10 a gallon, with prices expected to rise over the summer.

With love from England,

T-Ann