Garages have come on in leaps and bounds in recent years in terms of sophistication, no longer being just jumble sales that sell petrol. I still think they should essentially serve as way-stations on a journey, providing provisions for genuine travellers rather than just locals in their pyjamas who can't be bothered to go to a proper supermarket. Modern garages are, in my opinion, inconsistent in terms of providing either a small shop or big shop experience, so it's all a bit confusing. I very much like a Slushy while I'm on the road, for instance, but can't envisage under what circumstances I might attempt an in-car Pot Noodle.
What I most regret about the loss of the gleeful chaos of the old model is the disappearance of media, particularly wire baskets piled high with an eclectic, incomprehensible selection of discontinued VHS tapes, all marked at discount prices, and covering such subjects as Great Golf Goofs, Secrets Of Female Erotic Ecstasy, David Carradine's Tai Chi Workout and Telepathic Communications With Animals. These haphazard and totally unpredictable delights made great presents for whoever you were on the way to see.
Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it, and my best wishes to all who don't.
See you in (checks chart) 2027!
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