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A display put on by local travel agents!

Allan could have wept.

Pausing only to mug two passers-by, steal their clothes and then report the victims to the police for indecent exposure, Allan and his wife, both now more suitably clothed, entered the display area.

They were nearly killed in the rush of agents to attend to their needs

'Where would you like to go' was the common cry

'Where are we?' queried Allan

Forty pairs of eyes took on a glazed appearance

'You're here' responded one agent

'Yes I know that,' responded Allan, 'But precisely where is here?'

'Trowell. You're at the Trowell Services just near Nottingham'

Allan could not believe his luck, nor his ability to Google services on the M1

At least, and at last, they were heading in the right direction and the voices in his head would just have to live with it. He would show them who's the boss

But will the Sheriff of Nottingham let the pass?

The Sheriff of Nottingham, thought Allan.

We are heading for the untamed, uncouth and mostly uninhabited North, not the Wild West.

Neither were Roy Rogers or the Lone Ranger going to stop them, although a loan arranger might give them pause for thought

Boing! A resounding twang as an arrow whistled past their ears and buried itself into a nearby tree.

'Hello' thought Allan, could that indeed be Richard Green striding towards me, in his green hose and Little John?

It was either Richard Greene, or Lorne Greene who may have inadvertently entered the wrong studio.

Allan stared at the green tights and felt sick.

He distinctly remembered the problems than a similar pair, albeit a bit more sparkly, had caused him not so long ago.

Allan also wondered just why no one was worried that there was a tree inside the service station let alone a flying arrow.....
"Hey" said Allan to tight wearing stranger "If you're the real Robin Hood you help the poor....well we're poor travelers how can you help us?"

"Dear Sir you seem to be confused....I am not Robin Hood but Green arrow....are you a little guy in need of defending?"

'I wouldn't know,' Allan retorted, 'I have no way of making a comparison.'

Leaving behind a baffled Green man, Allan and his wife walked out of the Services, only just managing to avoid the police who were in the process of arresting the two poor mugging victims.

Wait a moment, thought Allan, where there are police on the scene there is usually a police vehicle with the keys still in the ignition.

Talk about Groundhog day....sure enough there it was all nice and warm engine running and bonus sandwiches and a flask of tea....

They got back onto the M1 and off they went until....

they realised they should be on the A606 to Melton Mowbray for their Pork Pie..

Oh Please turn off the motorway cried the people of Sheffield. We've had enough of alien invaders and that b....y doctor has only gpne off and left us again!

"Steel yourself," exclaimed Allan to his wife, "I think, unusually I've gone off in the wrong direction".

This was quite an admission on his part, because men always know the right way to go anywhere, but OH just smiled sweetly and said,
"Well what's to be done, then?"

"A U turn", answered Allan and so

Careful making that u-turn Allan. It could mean your OH taking over the Travelog and she's already in your head.


Isn't she? ;-)

North south, est or west.

What Allan needs is a roundabout!

And as if by magic a roundabout appeared.

Dougal, Florence, and Zeberdee began boinging around.

'Ow wow, those colours' said Allan. ' Give me a pair of sunglasses, I cannot bear all those citrus colours, orange is sweet, but lemons make me bitter.'

It was at this point Allan realized the sandwiches in the police car weren't their lunch but confiscated eatable drugs....who needs brownies! He knew he shouldn't have had the extra one.
Allan kinda remembers the next little while but then again maybe not.....he thinks they drove around and around but then again it might have been up and down. In fact it was......

Their twentieth time round the roundabout.

Allan was just about coming round from his salami-induced trip to discern a direction Marker 'THE NORTH'. Taking the appropriate exit he gunned the motor.

Five minutes later he heard heavy breathing and felt a tongue lick the back of his head.

'Not now love, I've got a headache' he simpered.

This response was met by an almighty barking noise which Allan conceded was beyond anything that his wife could produce.

Carefully adjusting the rear-view mirror Allan was confronted with the vision of a pair of brown eyes, long snout and a slobbering mouth filled with more fang-like teeth than he had ever seen before

The thought that had been hammering on the door of his brain was finally admitted.

The vehicle that he and his wife had so recently requisitioned previously belonged to the dog-handler.

It was only the lingering aroma of black puddings that was keeping the creature as docile as it was.

The sooner that they could join the M6 the better

Quite why Allan wanted to reach the M6 is unclear.

From their calculated position in UK, this was not the direct route to Melton Mowbray and his pork pie quest, but as he was at the wheel, we'll let him choose.

The neck-licking became more frequent and forceful and OH wasn't helping the situation by saying that the beast looked really hungry.
If they abandoned the car, what would they do with the dog?

Then a bright thought came to Allan.
This dog could track.

Maybe they wouldn't need to actually go to Melton Mowbray. Maybe the dog could track some pies elsewhere...............

Of course this was totally forgetting the interview with young Phil and the morning show....the things people do for a bit of pie.....

'Fame will have its own rewards' thought Allan. 'That Phil will have to wait, along with that young slip of a gel he sits on the sofa with'

It was still dark when Allan and his OH set foot outside the car, along with the dog. For a medium size dog it sure had a big tongue. But not everything is at it seems is it? How many times have people been disappointed? Answers in a sealed envelope pleased, addressed to Marj Proops, Here, Somewhere.

My goodness that dog could track, also field. He was pulling at its lead, and dragging the two lost souls along the hard shoulder. A light in a window was ahead. All three trecked doggedly towards it......

It was a dental surgery.

Ah thought Allan, this must be the Phil which the voices in my head were constantly on about, as he checked out the name of the Scottish dentist, Phil McCavity.

There was no one about so Allan and his wife decided to continue on their journey to the untamed North to seek out the black pudding which he so desired and which had so recently been cruelly snatched from his grasp.

Surely now that Fido had the scent of the black pudding from their clothes, he would be able to track one down