170,000

On 21st August 1975, I had my first "proper" car accident and as far as I can remember, I haven't had one since. The type of accident where you hear that awful sound of crunching steel. A truly horrible sound.

For Brits who know London well, I was heading into London along the Cromwell Road (i.e. the motorway coming from Heathrow) and at the junction with  Earls Court Road a one-way road heading south. It was late evening but still quite busy. I had been meeting friends at some pub on the Thames at Chiswick and had drunk no more than a pint. At least one of the gang, a girl was in a rowing club there. I was alone on the way back that evening. I always drove out to these meetings in my car, my flatmate Andy, the Flying Dutchman, had a huge BMW motorbike and there was no way I was travelling on the back of that.

Both roads are about five or six lanes at the junction which is controlled by traffic lights. I went into the crossing at green with my very heavy tank like Saab 96 and hit broadside, just behind the driver's door,  a small very light (2-door) Mini which contained two youngish (late 20s early 30s) people. Neither car turned over, the Mini got pushed some way. The very large woman driver remained seated, perhaps she couldn't open her door, but the passenger, a young male of a foreign nature, shot out to meet me as I approached the car with his fists raised and challenging me to a fight with all the cars dodging around us!

Luckily a Bobby on foot (they had to do such things back then) heard the noise from the accident and headed our way having called the Traffic boys on his walkie talkie. He parted the two of us and took me to the side of the road while the first officer in cars took the Mexican, as it turned out, to the Mini.

So I never got the chance to see what had happened to the Mini and only later learnt there was a baby in a cot on the back seat. Thankfully not hurt, nor were any of us adults. Cutting the story short, the woman driver was found to be under the influence, had jumped the traffic lights and before the court proceedings, fled to Mexico to avoid prosecution and caused me untold problems getting compensation.

Despite all the inconvenience (I didn't get the car back for nearly 6 weeks and no hire car because of her insurance "problems") what always stuck in my memory was the initial shock when learning there had been a baby on board. And remember back then we had NONE of the safety systems we have nowadays. Front seat belts only became compulsory equipment in cars in 1972 (and my car was a lot older) and compulsory wearing of front seat belts was not until 1983! 

I don't think it is even now a legal requirement in the UK to wear seat belts in cars registered before 1972.

So when the Prince Philip crash yesterday at Sandringham unfolded and the existence of a baby became public, I was reminded of the event.

Watching Sky News interviewing the man who got all the people out of their cars, the 75 year old Roy Warne, I was deeply troubled at how Sky concentrated on every single word the deeply emotionally shocked and shy Roy said about the Prince but hardly mentioned how Roy had very courageously and with great awareness, first attended to the smaller car which was smoking and could have exploded at any time, by getting the two women and the baby out of the car and to safety before attending to the Land Rover and the single man who then turned out to be the Prince.

My highest respect for Roy and I hope his courage and wherewithal is rewarded in a very public way by her Majesty.

This evening, I did manage a quick drive to Ottobeuren before the chemist closed at 18:00 to pick up the medicine I should have collected on Wednesday afternoon. As I drove, I noticed the distance meter was about to change from 169,999 and got out the camera.

Of course, I put the camera on my helmet and using voice commands got it to take the photo just as the dial tripped over. Yes, the Seat Belt warning light is blazing red indicating I wasn't wearing one. That happens to be true but as you can see in the photo at that time of night in our parts, the only thing on the road is the odd fox, badger or deer and I don't exceed the speed limit of 100kmh especially when there is sufficient snow on the side of the road to slow the 2+tons of SUV before it went down the ditch and crashed into the trees.

Now before the police contact me - I am not required to wear a seat belt. It has nothing to do with being a mad Brit, it is not part of any conspiracy by the EU to allow Brits to roam the land in a way that endangers their lives and thus reduces the immigration problem. And to be honest, I am pretty good at wearing mine, even I get panic when on the autobahn and the need to take off the belt happens. And there is no chance of me being a true patriot and sending Prince Philip my "No Seatbelt Required" badge even if he did offer £££ on my eBay shop site.

I fully understand the "independence" argument but not in his case. For many old people in rural areas, the driving licence is a lifeline. I personally would argue that "AI" or the self-driving car should be fully aimed at such rural people who have no other choice than cars/vehicles to get about. Personally, if I had the money, I would love to have a chauffeur and when my children are over, I do my very best to get them to take the car keys - sadly they are sensible people and prefer enjoying the back seat and a pint or three of Bavarian Beer. They start taking the nerve calming pills at least a week before they fly over.

I hope that when the time comes, I will voluntarily surrender my license just as my father did.