Apologies to J R R Tolkein. In The Lord of the Rings (one of my favourite books), there is a song with the above title that sums up a section of the utterly wretched A34 (actually, that’s how it makes me feel), which I have regularly traversed on my trips to and from the north-west. It’s strange, but the home leg always seems more interminable than the outward.

As many of you may know, there are actually three versions of the song in that great work: one which Bilbo sings as he sets off from the Shire, the second (which only has one word change) is spoken by Frodo as he and his companions pause at the Shire’s borders looking toward lands none of them had ever seen, and the third spoken by Bilbo in Rivendell (the closest version to my own). Anyway, I felt compelled to write it; as I’ve mentioned on a previous occasion, it’s hard to stop me from doing things like this!

The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the M40 where I began;
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Please let me off, I’m not a fan.

Let others’ journeys yet begin,
But I at last with aching back
Will turn towards the lighted inn;
A glass or two, then hit the sack.

Not quite up to JRRT’s standard, I know, but it kept me quiet for a bit.

There is actually an original version of the song which Bilbo recites at the end of The Hobbit, and which starts “Roads go ever ever on”. Here’s a stab at the opening lines of the first verse of that one:

Roads go ever ever on
Over rock and under tree;
Like this one, too, I drive upon
While pining for the old M3.

I curse the Highways Agency
‘Til all my vicious words are done
But, finally, a sense of glee,
The end is nigh: A31.

Truth to tell, I’ve never actually experienced a sense of glee or any other similar emotion upon encountering the A31, especially when westbound on a Friday afternoon but, after several rewrites of the last two lines, desperation set in.