Studying genealogy, it was not that long ago that some people were entered in a Census as ‘imbosil’ and riding my Moped 14 miles from Ashford to Canterbury almost every day, I think some could be, and should be, classed as just that again.

I can guarantee that on a weekday, any car which overtakes me after 7 miles away from home, I will catch them up and overtake them well before they reach Canterbury City Centre, yet the urgency and stupidity at which some drive is beyond all comprehension.

The favourites are as follows….
1. Overtaking when someones coming the other way. One small movement by me due to a dipped drain cover or gust of wind…?
2. Overtaking me even when I have my right hand indicator out and moving to the centre of the road.
3. Overtaking and cutting me up, then they turn off the road a couple of hundred meters ahead.
4. Worst of all – overtaking a car overtaking me.

I can not see the logic of this great urgency to overtake when, as they know the road, they will end up behind and in front of the same car when they reach their destination. Maybe a couple of cars (if they dare) will join the traffic ahead of them.

I realise I only have a 50cc moped and on the upward hills I struggle a bit and go down to 25mph. But when I do, I keep well left.
Even when I reach the grand heights of 40mph downhill in a 40mph limit they still overtake me.

What is it that takes us over when we get behind a wheel. It isn’t even a gender thing – male and female are as bad as each other!

When I had a car, I like to think I was pretty aware of other peoples rights on the road, I’d be polite and would never put a cyclist or motorcyclist in danger. In fact, some people travelling with me got fed with adhering to the speed limits!

By car, my daily journey averaged out at 26 minutes (I’m a bit geeky and note that sort of thing) . By moped it takes an average of 31 minutes – but if I were only doing the last 7 miles, I reckon I’d be at minimum 5 minutes faster than a Porsche!

Still, I always have the satisfaction of giving them a smile as I pass them at the road works, traffic lights or in the inevitable jam.
To the imbosils, I have the pleasure of pulling up beside them and happily hum a little song in the most relaxed way I can and give them a firendly nod as I carry on up the road away from them.

But, at the end of the day, it’s a serious matter really – and my campaign is to re-invent the entry into the next Census.