Before I start let me state that I am a bloomin’ good driver. Not everyone agrees. Johnny seems to develop phantom brake foot in the passenger seat of the truck. Also he alerts me to sheep/oncoming traffic/dust molecules when they are a very long way away. But anyway…
Dear lovely drivers who come to our island. I know it’s beautiful. I understand you slowing down to pop your Go-Pro out of the window and catch that view. I appreciate that our single track roads and passing places can be intimidating. So I really, honestly don’t mind you travelling at 25 mph all the time. I also sympathise with the *which side of the road am I on?* dilemma. After a year of living in Djibouti I still went the wrong way round the only roundabout in the country on my bicycle.
But please understand that those of us who live here have places to go. The bright lights of Or may be calling, with shiny things to buy as a treat for one of the staff…. There could be bargains to be had in the Co-op or an emergency squid run. That’s what passing places are for…. just pull over and let the little woman in the big truck pass. Then smile and wave…. if you don’t a fairy dies. or something. We don’t mean to stress you out, but when you have a picnic in a passing place or park between the hopeful cones on the distillery brae someone may shout at you a wee bit.
I promise I will be try to be patient with you. I want you to enjoy your holiday, to return to your home in one piece with a shed load of amazing pictures and memories. I want you to look back with fondness on the cheery islanders with their wavey hands and impressive cornering skills. Unless you’re in one of those *Wicked* camper vans (TM appaz). In which case I will run your tragic, misogynistic rear bumper into a big puddle.