Angel of the North.

I took Jnr to his new flat today - that is, I drove him to the motorway, then he did most of the motorway driving before I took over for the last part where we were travelling through the town following the sat/nav instructions. I have the advantage there as I speak fluent sat/nav, the machine does make strange use of the English language when issuing instructions.
 
It took a while to fill in all the paperwork before we finally gained access to the flat and unloaded all his worldly goods but, because someone had forgotten to confirm our estimated time of arrival, Jnr would have to wait until early evening before he could gain entry to his own room, however, he did have access to the communal kitchen and sitting room and had plenty to do for the rest of the afternoon. I beat a hasty retreat as we had already travelled over three hundred miles and I wanted to sleep in my own bed tonight.
 
Sat/navs are curious devices, this one had gleaned from the grapevine that there were “delays en route” that would entail a diversion. It was some time before I realised that I was driving up the east coast instead of the west so I made a little diversion and reached “The Angel” after dark. Its’s an impressive lump of metal and to my amazement, my phone managed to make a reasonable fist of capturing it. I would have preferred a real camera on a tripod but, needs must . . .  A little later on, as I approached The Borders, there were signs indicating that the Great North Road was closed; lo and behold, the sat/nav already knew this and took me off the main road and guided me safely home, though it did throw a wobbly with just a few miles to go. It’s imaginative routing had cut twenty miles off the journey which had taken the same driving time as our outward route.