Mr. Furious's Big Adventure.

I had to drive from Yeovil to Bristol yesterday.
It took me four hours.
The police were 'helping' in South Bristol, which added 45 minutes.
I saw three accidents; people just banded together and got things moving again through the ice, drifts and blizzards.
All along the only open route, the villagers gathered along the roads to help push cars out of drifts and keep the traffic moving.
As always, there were morons driving, a very few, but that's all it takes.
So on the forty miles per hour stretches, we were bunched behind fearful halfwits doing fifteen- especially on hills, where there was a good chance these imbeciles could strand us all.
Fortunately, we got through.

The meeting, an hour late, was a success.

Rather than go back, I went on to Cardiff to stay with friends.
Within a couple of hours, I was there, in dry, sunny, relatively mild weather, and after dark went to St. David's Hall to see the Welsh National Orchestra perform Elgar's Violin Concerto.

What a contrast.