So where shall we start. Shall I tell you about all the psychological situations in my life where I stood at the crossroads? Actually I never did because I always knew what I wanted and the crossroad sitution did not exist. On the other hand I lived on a crossroad for 20 years in the town of Solothurn. The building on the left was the appartment house we we had a 5 1/2 roomed flat on the first floor. I do not know why there was half a room, as they were all complete rooms: three bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom and an enormous hall which was more like 2 rooms knocked together.

I just found a larger photo, although the house has now been  spruced up. The rent was reasonable and we were almost in the middle of town. The crossroad now looks quite empty, but that is due to the extention of the motorway which relieved a lot of the traffic circulation.

Otherwise it was a day and night noise, especially when the traffic lights changed. The crossroads resembled a Russian roulette if you wanted to drive over them. There are various laws in Switzerland, one being traffic from the right has the right of way. For someone like me that does tend to have a problem with directional knowledge, this could be a problem. The train also travelled along the road in the middle with a 20 minute timetable, with an exception during the night, when it stopped at midnight, but began again at 6.00 a.m. and Sundays when the rhythm was 40 minutes. The main railway station was on the left of the photo.

You can see our building again on the right hand side just after the bridge and the main station at the bottom of the road. Yes, even Switzerland has its crowded places. It was a great place to live with 4 noisy school children (my 2 step children were then still living with us), but one day we decided to move out into the country where you really only find the fox and hedgehogs walking over the crossroads, and unfortunately are not always fast enough to survive the traffic.

I was let out again today, had an appointment for chest x-ray, and Mr. Swiss found that as I am a big girl now I could take the car. I think he said something about having something better to do with his time. I was again let loose on the roads with all the cross roads, which can be very confusing fo a brit that grew up with left sided traffic, although I never actually was allowed to drive in England. I did have a few half hearted attempts at learning, but I gave it up before my driving teacher did.

Today was full of surprises. I climbed into the car, drove off and as I turned the first corner something lit up and a signal appeared in the car. “You will have to tank” it said, in german of course. Our car only speaks german. Then it told me I could drive another 60 kilometers before it would need petrol or gas as some other countries say. I worked it out quickly in my head and discovered that the x-ray place was just on the other side of town, not more than 2 kilometers and I could easily arrive home without being stranded in the middle of the road afterwards. We have had this car a couple of years, but I actually never had to quench its thirst, Mr. Swiss does it all.

I eventually arrived safely to where I was going and had to wait, so I gave a quick call to Mr. Swiss telling him that I could have been in dire straits as the tank was telling me it was emptying. He replied that he knew it, but I still have enough petrol. He knew it and did not tell me? After my x-ray, which was a matter of five minutes I had psychologically prepared myself for the return journey. The clinic had a wonderful parking place, really no problem. I parked my car next to an empty space, I love empty spaces, but noticed that the empty space had been occupied by a short sighted idiot that must have fallen in love with my car door, as he had parked so near I  could not open it. I had to operate plan B and open the passenger door and climb over the seat. It is not a small car, a Skoda, but if it had been a volvo or rolls royce, climbing over the seat would not have presented a problem. I even have problems with walking, and climbing over seats is not my thing. After 5 minuts of uttering profanities (which do help) I arrived at the steering wheel. If Mr.  Ignorant had turned up in the meanwhile I would have given him a dose of Angloswiss phrases which would certainly forced him to kneel down and ask pray for forgiveness. However he remained missing – was probably watching me from a window somewhere.

Before I leave you here is a photot of my favourite crossroad/roundabout in London. It is somewhere on the was to the City Aiport. I love it, and often though it would be a good theme for a science fiction story. I am sure that extra terrestrials built and live inside it, waiting to take over one day, their space craft landing at the nearby airport.

Daily Prompt: Crossroads