8 out of 24...

Ok the weather was clear, a touch of rain but nothing too horrendous...good day for a road trip, eh?

The impending nuptials of Lord and Lady London are upon us, and with a quick goodbye to the hobbits this morning I set off for the sunny climes of Gloucester.

To be honest, I should have known that things were going too well when the hobbits happily said goodbye; or when I seemed to hit every traffic light at green...or when the policeman didn't stop me for doing 37 in a 30...

However it all went downhill when I hit the main motorway - the M25...also known as London's biggest car park.

Unfortunately for someone there was an accident. I say this because really in the great scheme of things me being delayed is nothing in comparison to someone else's misfortune of being involved in an RTA...however, the impact of said accident was nearly a four delay on a stretch of road that normal would have taken me about 15 minutes to drive.

Initially I was happy. Panic hadn't sunk in...I was ok. I had a coffee in a large cup, I had music and biscuits for sustenance should I require them.

I played with radio channels whilst I inched slowly up the road; bantered with transit drivers but after a while...it may have been in the third hour, I realised my bladder needed some help. I was beginning to worry now...was I ever going to see light? Would I ever see beyond the back of the Jefferson Haulage lorry I was stuck behind? Did I have enough biscuits? I was actually nervous about eating them...in case I was here all night and might need them later on.

The bladder was also getting to be a problem. Some people were parking up and running off into the bushes for relief; there was even a hen party of women all dressed in nun outfits who took it turn to run off into the fields with their crosses and loo rolls. Nuns are clearly prepared for every eventuality.

A kind transit driver did indeed offer me some toilet roll, but I declined and eventually at just peaking the fourth hour got off the motorway and to a road side cafe, to finally rush into a toilet to discover....no damn toilet roll.

Really? Thanks to Dad who got me on the right track again.

So a journey that should have taken me three hours...took me nearly eight and a half...but the chance to see your best friend get married, I don't really care if it had taken me 24.