Life of a Lab Rat

"Are we nearly there yet?"

We've all been there. Either as the driver or adult passenger on a long car journey to a holiday destination, or as the annoying offspring ourselves, where 'long' is anything more than about half a mile. We've managed to turn that into a bit of a joke: on leaving the Black Castle one of us might ask it before the engine's even turned over. The Pawns are getting the message—and when they haven't, I will usually say "No, we've got about six hours left", which is far better for my sanity at least than "Don't start that again". Even if we are only five minutes from the destination.

"I need a wee-wee"

This one takes a bit of training. It's usually uttered from the backseat just after you've left the M4 service station (where you asked, "Does anyone need the toilet?"), successfully merged between two Eddie Stobarts, and have settled into fifth doing eighty-five.

The trick of course is not to ask who needs the toilet, but to inform your brood that they are, fact, going to the toilet now while we're still safely at Leigh Delamere services, because it's still six hours to Cornwall and we're not stopping again.

Having an 'accident' with a toddler in potty-training while in sight of the services but not being able to get there because the Cambridgeshire rozzers^[0]. haven't yet learned how to direct traffic yet is probably inevitable, so your best bet is to be prepared as best you can. Pack plenty of changes of clothes.

"I'm bored"

"If I hear 'The wheels on the bus go round and round' one more time I shall scream." A generation of parents know all the words to all the Tweenies songs, but at least they're better than the alternative. No, seriously: if ever I hear 'toot toot chugga chugga big red car' again I will have to be restrained from choking Jeff with his own blasted guitar.

Can I have an ice cream?

(Subtext: "I'm bored")

"No"

(Subtext: "In the car? When you're likely to throw up at the next corner? You know how much the upholstery stinks—are you out of your tiny little mind?")

"We just passed the services! Why didn't we stop?"

Because, darling child of mine, we've just spent the last four hours in a traffic jam outside Taunton and we need to be there by seven. And your mother's got a headache.
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If any of that seems familiar, spare a thought for Opportunity, NASA's plucky little rover, about to set off on a seven mile journey to a holiday home by the sea a crater. Seven miles may not seem much (although it can seem like a lifetime on the M5), but NASA claim that, if they can crank up the top speed a bit, they're not going to be 'nearly there yet' for two years.

And there are no service stations on Mars. Or ice creams.

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I started writing this because I was concerned about how the writer of the NY Times piece managed to get 110 yards/day for two years to be anywhere near seven miles (and don't even think about the title to that article). 110 x 365 x 2 = 80,300 yards, which is 45.6 miles. Assuming an Earth year of course, which is what the vast majority of people reading the article might reasonably be expected to think. Martian time is complicated.

Opportunity currently has a heady top speed of 0.1 mph. However, she is a sensitive lady and needs to take care not to trip over rocks and boulders and stuff that you don't (usually) get on motorways, which means she'll be travelling quite a bit more slowly. She is also solar powered, so even if she did spend all day travelling those 110 yards, she'd need to take a couple of days in the sun to recharge her batteries.

NASA says

The rover team estimates Opportunity may be able to travel about 110 yards each day it is driven toward the Endeavour crater. Even at that pace, the journey could take two years.

Note those critical words, each day it is driven. It's not going to be a non-stop journey. There will be toilet breaks.

But that's what you get when journalists swallow press releases without chewing.

0. They're better than the AFP though. And that's saying something.