Gangril days: Signs of the times

Our last sat-nav had a lisp..” in thix hundred yards turn left”... “at the next roundabout, take the thecond exthit”. Obviously, it was a glitch somewhere in the circuitry but rather endearing nonetheless. It gave her, for it was a female voice, a personality.

Our new one has perfect diction and a somewhat school-teacher demeanour, possibly one dealing with a less than able pupil. “In one mile, bear right” followed by a higher pitched, slightly desperate “ Bear Right!” as if expecting the obtuse driver to have forgotten the original command.

The voice of the sat-nav like that of the primary teacher of yesteryear, rules our every move.

Maps and signposts are no longer consulted with care. Mileage signs after every junction scarcely merit a passing glance.

We are now so dependent on our on-board electronic guides that these old friends have been forgotten.

I remember, as a student on the long drive back, enjoying seeing the digits dropping from three to two then counting them down ... 90+ 80+ 70+... as the miles passed and, though my tank emptied, my destination neared. Now, the sat-nav tells me not only how far it is to go but how long, given my current speed, it will take.

They are still there, those old friends, the fingerposts and milestones. Some rusty old RAC signs erected before the standardisation of the 1950's can still be found.

Milestones now are more used by paediatricians than motorists but in the days of the horse and cart or Shanks's pony they must have lifted the spirits of weary travellers as yet another one was passed en route to a destination.

Going back to Roman roads...”mile” comes from milia passuum, literally, one thousand paces... the Romans erected a stone at each distance, the heirs of these markers can still be seen in the verges along our minor roads.

They can be delightfully quirky.

If you were travelling to Kingshouse, you're there!

Some give the distances down to quarter miles presumably from times when villages and towns had an immutable edge to and from which distances could be measured. An important distinction in the days of Sunday drinking laws when only bona fide travellers i.e. those who had journeyed more than four miles but “not solely for the purpose of drinking” were entitled to alcoholic refreshment.

The latter restriction was almost impossible to prove

This accounts for the preponderance of Four Mile Inns around Scottish towns and, certainly, it was a valuable source of revenue for country pubs and hotels if not the ideal way of promoting road safety. Those partaking had to sign a ledger confirming their bona fide status.

There is another group of obsolete markers scattered about the countryside. The triangulation points or trig points beloved of hillwalkers. Once used for geodetic surveys, they are no longer needed in these days of satellite navigation but are still collected by ramblers who find Munro bagging too demanding. Many have been adopted and are maintained by local walking groups.

Perhaps local milestones and signposts deserve the same, pointing us, as they do, not just down the road, but back into history.