Please, Please, Please, Please, Please, Please, Please, Please, Please, don’t EMP us.
Well not immediately Pres’ Putin (Sir).
The search for a new home starts within the week (or so) and, as our map collection is only 5 miles on either side of the UK’s navigable waterways, we’ve gone out and bought another little car mounted GPS.
The last one, some 20 years ago, was dispatched to electronic hell after taking us down the same road name, from all four sides, repeatedly, in a strange part of our country called Wales. That’s where road signs are written in two languages, Unpronounceable, and English. I’m actually better at speaking Russian than my mother’s language, Welsh!
This also follows a few recent ‘tiny’ little problems in navigation lately due to old road maps and a knackered magnetic compass which cost us loads in fuel and time.
So we’ll be notching up quite a few miles in the blind.
Probably down tiny roads with (once again) totally unpronounceable names only this time they may contain a little Gaelic (Scot). We will need a little high-tech help and probably a shotgun to keep us safe!
Now all I need is an eight year old to translate the Changlish handbook to me and to explain the finer points of a GPS with more processing power than the first moon landing had.