The lethal drive to Carmarthen

I drove down to Carmarthen from Rhyl yesterday afternoon. I cannot believe it takes so long: hour after hour of curvacious A and B roads behind tractors; ancient behatted drivers driving at 40mph on the straight and slowing to 25 at every bend after something resembling an emergency near-stop; road works just around blind corners where you wait with bated breath at temporary red traffic lights praying that a speeding car won't race round the corner behind you and ram you up the rear; very young men in baseball caps driving at 80 in the middle of the road and straight towards you whilst making a phone call, lighting a cigarette and talking to the girlfriend who must think she is on a big dipper ride at the fair, at best, or a suicide mission at worst. The odd camper van or towed caravan is light relief after all this.
Mark my words, this journey is far, far more dangerous than driving on the motorway.
I came back to North Wales this afternoon after the Regional Policy Event, which was the point of my visit. I survived, this time.