I did read, years before this journey, a book from another English guy, named Douglas Adams. He wrote: if you are stuck in London traffic, try to get the next roundabout, accelerate inside, and keep full throttle down and the centrifugal forces throw you out in any direction and with great hope, you are in the right way home! If not, try the next roundabout and never give up! 😆🤣 -------- January vacation, my girl and I said: *LONDON - Let’s fly!* Booked a hotel, booked a car - oh boy, we were chasing daylight. Driving through London feels like a medieval fight, pushed into chaos with no end in sight. Everyone screaming, same muddy street, and nobody knows where the right road goes. No signs for direction, just signs for stress: *NO PARKING! DON’T PARK! NEVER PARK ANYWHERE!* *Park here and you’re doomed, they’ll take your cash and pride,* London traffic is a battlefield - and the sun’s your only guide. Then came an idea in my desperate mind, bright as Porsche headlights when they hit you from behind: Find a roundabout, get inside, hold tight - accelerate hard, spin fast through the night. Let centrifugal forces choose your fate, throw you out in a random state. If it’s the right direction, celebrate - if not, try the next one… don’t hesitate. Our trip was before GPS came alive, and no Londoner built it - they had to survive by reading the weather, the curb, the flow, anything that might point where to go. How could London rule half the world’s domain when nobody here survives the driving pain? It blows my mind, it’s hard to see how this city led an empire - but still needed the sun like me. Then came an idea in my desperate mind, bright as Porsche headlights when they hit you from behind: Find a roundabout, get inside, hold tight - accelerate hard, spin fast through the night. Let centrifugal forces choose your fate, throw you out in a random state. If it’s the right direction, celebrate - if not, try the next one… don’t hesitate. In the end we reached the airport again, followed the sun southwards like old‑school men. Looked up for planes, chased their flight, and somehow found Gatwick by following light. We flew back home with a simple vow: Next time in London - *we’re taking the bus from now.*
