Road to Riches

It's a Bus Lane, apparently...

I'm not one for New Year resolutions. I can't keep them, just can't. I explain this by way of commiseration by telling myself that to resolve to do, or not to do, something from the first of January is only a matter of convenience. The first day of a New Year seems like a logical place to start, to adopt a new regime, or whatever. Give up drinking, stop smoking, walk more (to the pub), eat less, don't worry, be happy, nuke America (that one only applies to a certain gent in North Korea).

Except that it's not a logical date on which to start anything. When the sun drags itself up over the damp or frozen rooftops on the first day of the year, you stand no more chance of sticking to a new self-made promise than if you'd chosen the fifteenth of March, or the end of July. The depth of resolve lies not in the date but in the willpower. Or in my case, won't-power.

So I'm not given to embarking on personal crusades just because it's New Year, but that said, Lambeth Council (henceforth referred to as The Bastards) have chosen to help me with one particular resolution: staying out of bus lanes.

The Bastards sent me an infringement notice recently, which included a photograph of (allegedly) my

car in a bus lane. This is by far the most expensive photo I have ever had taken, costing a whopping £130. Or, if I pay within 14 days of the date of the notice, a discounted but still unwanted £65. And this arrived just in time for Christmas. Thank you Bastards.

Steer clear of here

The pure among you will, of course, be nodding, tutting and saying, 'Well, serves you right; you shouldn't have been in the bus lane to begin with.' I know your type; you'd be the ones knitting in front of the guillotine baskets, tittering as the heads rolled in. Well you can take your holier-than-thou smarminess and shove it up your schadenfreude.

I've always fancied representing myself in court, and having studied the said infringement notice and photograph, I am indeed tempted to address M'Lud and my learned friends, in fact the jury and whole public gallery, in a Rumpolian performance worthy of an Oscar nomination. Because, dear reader, there is reasonable doubt.

I bring to your attention, Exhibit A, the photograph. This measures 5cms by 4cms (for those flummoxed by EU measurements, which we shall soon be ditching anyway, that’s a mere two inches by one-and-a-half-inches), and was taken at night. It is alleged that my car is the vehicle in the photograph, which is (arguably) in a bus lane on Clapham Park Road. Your Honour, may I take a moment to present the court with some details as to the image? Thank you.

In the photograph, the vehicle itself measures just half a centimetre across, while the number plate of the vehicle measures a mere three millimetres across and cannot be discerned even with a magnifying glass. In fact, neither can the make nor colour of the vehicle, other than to say it is of reddish or brown hue (it's actually rust). But with the effect of street lighting, who can be sure? I call my first expert, ‘Witness A’ from the Kodak Colour Laboratories, who will testify that indeed the type, source and colour of street lighting can deliver a totally false indication of an object’s real colour.

Guilty of a 34J. The photo measures 5cms x 4cms

What’s that? The prosecuting counsel has argued that there is a photograph of the number plate itself? Indeed there is, on The Bastards’ website, but not on my alleged infringement notice. Your Honour, may I draw attention to the fact that the close-up image of the vehicle number plate online does not in fact show any reference points, and could easily have been taken out of context at some other time and in some other location? It could in fact have been taken in the car park outside my flat, which is off the road entirely and completely legal.

And so I return to the tiny – almost thumbnail – image of the vehicle I was issued with, which in no way establishes guilt beyond reasonable doubt, and which, I believe, exonerates me from blame.

What is beyond any doubt whatsoever Your Honour is that The Bastards (Objection!) – forgive me your Honour, ‘Lambeth Council’ – raked in over £6 million in fines from this one 70-metre bus lane, and that was only up till September 2015. The figure today must be far greater. In fact, the Automobile Association has accused The Bastards (Objection! Over-ruled! Thank you M’Lud…)’ has accused The Bastards of “bus lane entrapment.” Given the spurious evidence presented by The Buggering Bastardy-Bastard sons-of-whores, I put it to you Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury that this case should be thrown out of court!

¬

Well that's just fine then!

Or I could just pay the fine, which of course I did. But only because having moved to London I had forgotten to change the address on my driver’s licence, and so, annoyingly, the infringement notice was originally sent to our old Liverpool address and took just under two weeks to be forwarded – the exact time allowable to pay only half the penalty, and leaving no time for me to prepare my otherwise watertight case.

So, although I don’t do New Year resolutions, I will resolve to avoid all bus lanes all of the time at any time of day or night even if it means running over cats or dogs in the road, because they’re likely to be cheaper than a Lambeth Council bus lane fine, especially since the cost of the so-called infringement is now to rise to £160. The Bastards.

Happy New Year.