Lost in Cheshire

Talking of lost, I spent a ridiculously long time lost in Cheshire yesterday—which is kind of embarrassing, bearing in mind I was born in the county.

It all started in Runcorn, where I somehow managed to leave the main expressway and head off into the hills. It was at this point that I realised I must have gone wrong somewhere, because I had never noticed any hills in Runcorn before. But rather than be all girly and retrace my steps, I decided to use my innate, masculine sense of direction. After about 20 minutes' driving round in circles, I spotted a landmark which I recognised. This was quite an achievement, as this was the first time I had been off the main drag in Runcorn—but I never forget a pub. Then I realised I only recognised it from the telly: it was the pub from Two Pints of Lager (and a Packet of Crisps). Big help.

So I retraced my steps and eventually picked up the right road to Northwich, where I immediately got lost again. By now, I realised what my problem was: there are absolutely no road signs in Cheshire. It's almost as if Cheshire towns see their neighbouring towns as rivals, and don't want to advertise their existence. So I headed off towards Winsford on the wrong road, then spotted a little country lane with an actual signpost pointing to a village on the road I needed to be on, so I rather stupidly followed it. The little lane passed directly over the road I wanted to be on, and led to a T-junction, which, of course, was somewhat lacking in the signpost department. So I took an educated guess and took a left, in the general direction of Winsford. Which just happened to be totally the wrong thing to do.

Come on, Cheshire County Council, it really shouldn't be that difficult. The Romans signposted the roads in your area. Isn't it about time you updated them?

Filed under: Nonsense

Richard Carter

A fat, bearded chap with a Charles Darwin fixation.


  1. You should try getting lost in Wales......
    It didn't help with my wife's map reading & her phronetic pronunciation of Welsh place names.
    ie: Doll Gallow, Cricky-eth & pw-helly (yes, that's right, we were going to Butlin's) and why not?

  2. Don't get me started on Welsh road signs: you follow them for miles and miles through winding country lanes, then suddenly you're at some crossroads in the middle of nowhere, and not a sign in sight.

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *