The belly-flip road

There's a B-road in the village where I grew up that's got a dip in it. It's the sort of dip that when driven over at speed makes your belly turn over, giving you the same feeling that you get on a fairground ride. The sort of feeling where you think you've left your belly behind you and then it catches up with you just a milli-second later. 

When we were kids, the dip in the road was more fierce - or as we used to call it then fun. My dad had a Triumph Herald back then. I can't remember much about it except that it was purple and we called the car Little Plum. It fit us three kids in the back, squashed together but happy. Happier still when we urged dad on to go drive over the belly-flip road at speed.

But the council put a stop to this fierceness fun in a pique of Health and Safety some time in the late 70s when they put more tarmac on the road or something. Whatever they did, it made the dip in the road less dippy, less fierce, less fun.  The fun is still there now, only just, but it's definitely there.

And the reason I'm blogging this is because I visited my mam today. She still lives in the village. I went on the bus and the bus took the route home via the belly-flip road.  It took it at speed and my belly did flip. It made me smile and think of dad, and of all the happy family times we had with Little Plum.