Yesterday I was driving across the Levels, from Glastonbury towards Butleigh and it was a nice day. From my vantage point in the camper-van (the driving position is a lot higher than I'm used to) I had a good view of the landscape and this allowed me to observe a cow in some distress, swimming along a drainage ditch.
Now, as anyone who knows me will confirm, I'm not a country boy so I wasn't quite sure what to do but I felt I had to do something so I stopped and walked back to where the poor animal was trapped. A bit of thought suggested that the owner would be local so stopping a passing car and asking them to drive to the nearest farm, just a few hundred yards up the road, felt like a good and practical solution. And, as luck would have it, a car approached from the direction of Glastonbury so I stepped into the road and flagged it down and that was when I realised that the driver didn't want to stop. In my foolishness I wondered if they misinterpreted my wild arm-waving so I placed myself directly in the path of the oncoming car, a silver Beemer sports-car (registration WF 09 *** - I didn't get the last three numerals). The driver, revealed as a hatchet featured woman, finally slowed down just long enough to bellow at me, "I'm not helping!" and then, in best Jeremy Clarkson manner, floored the accelerator and disappeared in a cloud of shame.
So the message is clear - if you are looking for a Good Samaritan and you find a silver Beemer sports-car carrying the registration WF 09 ***, step well back.
Till next time, I'm still Niall Connolly