Tuesday, 26 January 2010
Last night, driving to the FADA meeting, I encountered the densest fog I have ever seen -- a thick white bank of it along a narrow and winding hill road, with a steep drop on one side. Irish roads don't have shoulders, and there was no place to turn around.
I crawled the car along at ten kilometres an hour, brights on, keeping my eye on the bit of white line I could see, until I hit the edge and passed into a fairly clear night, like a plane emerging from a cloud.
The fog here is like snow back home -- picturesque and romantic, if you are not driving in it.
Photo: the road outside our home.