ON THE first day God said let there be light and so it was. However our creator had failed to foresee the advent of the motor car and the perils of driving across Sussex in the darkness.

Having recently moved to Bexhill I spend most evenings driving back home from work in Brighton and the journey is, to put it mildly, perilous.

I have driven all over the world... from South Africa to the United States, France and Germany, and they all have one thing in common... they have lights on their dual carriageways and motorways for the entire duration of your journey.

But in dear old Great Britain absolutely not.

We may be living in the 21st century but we are still in the dark ages when it comes to our roads.

First up there are potholes quite literally everywhere and without streetlights you normally don’t spot them at night until there is a bone-jarring thump as one of your front wheels hits one.

On Thursday evening on my return journey it was hammering it down with rain, making it even more precarious and as a result, on several sections of the A27, cars slowed to a crawl for the simple reason it was almost impossible to see where the hell you were going.

We pay through the nose for our road tax and insurance yet have to put up with roads that Fred Flintstone would have deemed unworthy in prehistoric times.

Environmentalists complain about the proliferation of SUVs on our roads in Sussex. Well, to be perfectly honest, I am surprised they haven’t become compulsory in order to negotiate our roads without sustaining any damage to either the vehicle or the people encased within. We need off-road vehicles just to negotiate our main roads and that is simply not good enough.

In countries such as Japan, France and Germany any potholes on main roads are repaired within a matter of hours. That is just a pipe dream in Britain.

Why should that be? There really is no excuse when you think about it.

Indeed, an intrepid group of councillors in Worthing have become so aggrieved by the state of the town’s roads that they have set up an action group.Lib Dem trio Bob Smytherman, Martin McCabe and Hazel Thorpe have my total admiration.

They even went as far as throwing a birthday party for a two-year-old pothole in Palatine Road, Worthing.

Their relentless lobbying has now paid further dividends as the crack-stricken Ringmer Road will also now be resurfaced. About time too.

It is not rocket science is it? Every winter the authorities know that there will be more and more potholes as road surfaces crack yet lethargy seems to be the name of the game when it comes to repairing them.

Apparently there is something called a pothole hotline. Yeah right, fat lot of use that is proving to be.

At least this winter there had been no snow and we should all be especially grateful for that because even a light dusting brings everything on our roads to a grinding halt. Amazingly this doesn’t happen in Canada even when there are snow drifts several feet deep.

When I lived in Portslade a drive along the seafront was anything but pleasurable. Unless you were prepared to switch lanes like a deranged dodgem driver the chances of your suspension escaping unscathed were at best remote. I had to have my wheels realigned three times in a mere six months. This may sound like sour grapes and of course it is but I am by no means the only one to complain.

The Argus receives letters on a regular basis about the state of our roads and imploring the authorities to do something about it, but it appears those pleas are largely falling on deaf ears.

I have always loved driving ever since passing my test back in 1981 but these days it is a chore rather than the pleasure it should be.

Nothing would make me fork out 20 grand plus on a new car. There is absolutely no point as your pride and joy would be back in the garage within weeks, suspension reduced to rubble.

Buy an old reliable one and run it into the ground because it makes far more sense.

Obviously the long-term solution is to buy a 4x4 but I just can’t bring myself to do it.

Having just “celebrated” my 59th birthday I know the time will come when I will no longer be able to lever myself out of my 20-year-old two-seater sportscar and it will be a sad parting of the ways because it has served me well.

However, there is light at the end of the tunnel. It is only six years before I am entitled to a free bus pass.