SNOW fell on Bolton and, as happens every so often, chaos ensued on the roads.

Our fragile travel system clogged up, causing widespread disruption all over town to schools, businesses and health services because individuals were not able to get to work on time.

No surprise there and you cannot blame those angry people who thought something should have been done to prevent the snarl-ups.

Fuming and calling for heads to roll is a natural response.

The simple fact, though, is that a significant fall of the white stuff just before the rush hour at either end of the working day tends to have this effect in Bolton, no matter what the council does or does not do.

Many of us know this, shrug our shoulders and get on with things as best we can on roads that were not designed for the weight of modern traffic and are particularly vulnerable on miserable winter days.

Luckily, there are not many which involve massive disruption on last week’s scale and it is doubtful whether there is a need for extensive and expensive contingency plans.

We are not in the frozen wastes of Canada and so far there is nothing in our winter weather pattern to suggest that the council should increase council tax to cover prolonged “white-outs”.

Having said that, we all hope that responsible town hall officials find the time to analyse last week’s problems and tweak the response system where it can.

No doubt there will be plenty of advice. You might think these semi-philosophical thoughts identify me as a lover of snow.

Not so. I hate it.

I dislike scraping it off the path, worrying if I can get the car off the drive, slipping when it freezes over and not being able to get to where I want to go.

Ski-slopes have no appeal and I never enjoyed getting wet and cold when I was called upon to help build a snowman that was greatly inferior to the one that goes walking in the air each Christmas to the accompaniment of high-pitched, irritating singing.

Also, why is it compulsory for television reports of mayhem on the roads to be balanced with pictures of youngsters tobogganing and looking deliriously happy?

Let it snow, let it snow —somewhere else.

Keep it for the Christmas cards, I say!

Talking of which, a robin appeared when I was clearing the drive last week and I could swear it was sniggering.