What might it have been like to stand in one spot and witness the arrival, and the uncertainty, of plans for an urban motorway in West London?
It was the UK's only single-carriageway motorway, and twenty years ago it ceased to exist. This is the story of the strange fascination it held, and of my place in history.
Common sense suggests that you shouldn't be able to spend so much money on heavy engineering and end up with such a terrible road system.
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