Not a time one wants to be posh and blonde...

Just because it made me laugh, I'll tell you this little tale.  But if you saw me on the Euston Road yesterday at about 7pm, you probably hated me. In my knackered, 21 year old Land Rover Defender, I broke down in the middle lane of said road, at the junction by St Pancras International. Horns blaring doesn't even cover it. Eventually, after several phone calls to breakdown service and the emergency services (briefly unsure which one I wanted), I was rescued by a policeman and his nifty panda car who kindly towed me round the corner and out of harm's way. Finally, the car was rolled onto a pick up truck and delivered back to Snotty Hill. As experiences go, it was really rather thrilling.

And why do we drive such a ridiculous car in London? Partly because we love it. Partly because the alternative (a cheap Ford Fiesta) is too awful to compensate. But mostly because it's knackered. All the best posh things are utterly clapped out.