Red Routes
August 21, 2001
I'm driving down a small road in London in my beaten up old VW Golf. It hasn't been used in a while and the handbrake's a bit loose. As I drive along, approaching a junction, I open the driver side door and look down. I notice that the single yellow line by the side of the road has become red. I vaguely remember that the red routes in London are now tolled and I'll be liable for a fine if I stray onto one. I stop and start to turn the car around when I notice that the street I'm one is one way. Then I notice that there are some policemen standing around a lectern at the end of the street. One of them approaches.
He goes up to the passenger side of the vehicle and knocks. My wife rolls down the window and the policeman asks for ten pounds, the toll for the road. My wife is apoplectic at the amount charged, but I explain that there's no choice. I try to stop the car, but the handbrake doesn't work very well and I have to pull it up really hard to hold the car still. The policeman watches this with interest.
I get out of the car and go over to the lectern where I start to pay the toll. One of the other policemen there mentions something about the handbrake and the others go over to have a look.
Finally, after what seems like a wait of ages, I get my receipt for the transaction and we pull out onto the road.