Diary of a Road Accident Pt II

Weekend 24/25 March

The day began merrily enough as family Saturdays often do. My daughter’s need for a new guide uniform seemed to override my need to sleep off the previous evening, so up we got. Overnight I had received an email from the police to tell me that I needed to report the accident in person at a police station rather than the internet. Slightly irritating, but I figured that a detour to the Police Counter in the Civic Centre wasn’t such an onerous chore. 

Girl Guide depots are great, or at least, the St Albans one is. The volunteers are super enthusiastic, and knew exactly what we needed.  They talked excitedly to my daughter about the fun of guiding, and we left there fully equipped and pretty chipper. We walked up the hill into town, and after a whizz round a few shops headed for the Civic Centre.

And that’s where it went wrong. The counter is only open from 10-12 on a Wednesday. No other days. This struck me as rather outrageous, how could I report it whilst the events are fresh in my mind if I have to wait 5 days for it to open? If there is no front counter to report things like this, why can’t the Police accept a phone or internet report? If I take half a day off work to report it, then I won’t get paid, adding lost wages to the existing costs of replacing clothes.

The day was a bit too busy to dwell on it, but I then lay awake that night stewing about the inequity of the situation. If I had been in a car rather than on a bike, the insurers would have sorted it out immediately. Why should I have cost and discomfort while the driver carries on as if nothing happened? Where else is the vulnerable party the least protected by the law? What other circumstance, other than boxing, is one person allowed to leave another with visible grazes and bruises without a penalty?  It’s the driving equivalent of a studs up 2 footed tackle, there must be a driving equivalent of a red card. 

I spent most of Sunday seething about it, and whingeing to anyone who innocently asked me how I was. By Sunday evening I had wound myself into a plethora of hate about the motoring community in general but whilst watching the children swim, calm descended, and I had 2 good ideas.

To be continued...