Foreign drivers will have a pay on-the-spot fines of up to ￡900 for breaking the traffic law to be carried out next month.

    If they do not have enough cash or a working credit card, their vehicles will clamped(扣留) until they pay—and they will face an additional fee of ￡80 for getting back their vehicles.

    The law will also apply to British citizens. The fines will be described officially as “deposits” when the traffic law takes effect, because the money would be returned if the driver went to court and was found not guilty. In practice, very few foreign drivers are likely to return to Britain to deal with their cases.

    Foreign drivers are rarely charged because police cannot take action against them if they fail to appear in court. Instead, officers often merely give warnings.

    Three million foreign-registered vehicles enter Britain each year. Polish vehicles make up 36 percent, French vehicles 10 percent and German vehicles 9 percent.

    Foreign vehicles are 30 percent more likely to be in a crash than British-registered vehicles. The number of crashes caused by foreign vehicles rose by 47 percent between 2003 and 2008. There were almost 400 deaths and serious injuries and 3,000 slight injuries from accidents caused by foreign vehicles in 2008.

    The new law is partly intended to settle the problem of foreign lorry drivers ignoring limits on weight and hours at the wheel. Foreign lorries are three times more likely to be in a crash than British lorries. Recent spot checks found that three quarters of lorries that failed safety tests were registered overseas.

    The standard deposit for a careless driving offence —such as driving too close to the vehicle in front or reading a map at the wheel—will be ￡300. Deposits for speeding offences and using mobile phones will be ￡60. Foreign drivers will not get points as punishment added to their licenses, while British drivers will.

    On a Friday night, a poor young artist stood at the gate of the New York railway station, playing his violin. The music was so great that many people stopped to put some money into the hat of the young man.

    The next day, the young artist came to the same place, and put his hat on the ground gracefully. Different from the day before, he took out a large piece of paper and laid it under his hat. Then he began to play the violin. It sounded more pleasant than ever.

    Soon he was surrounded with people who were attracted by the words on that paper. It said, “Last night, a gentleman named George Sang put an important thing into my hat by mistake. Please come to claim (认领) it soon.”

    After about half an hour, a middle-aged man rushed through the crowd to the violinist and said, “Yes, it's you. I knew that you were an honest man and would certainly come here.” The young violinist asked calmly, “Are you Mr George Sang?” The man nodded. The violinist asked, “Did you lose something?”“It's a lottery ticket,” said the man. The violinist took out a lottery ticket on which George Sang's name was seen. “Is it?” he asked. George nodded and took the lottery ticket and kissed it, then danced with the violinist.

    The violinist was a student at an arts college and had planned to attend advanced studies in Vienna. Later his classmate asked the violinist, “At that time you needed money to pay the tuition and you had to play the violin in the railway station every day to make money. Why didn't you keep the lottery ticket for yourself?”

    The violinist said, “Although I don't have much money, I live happily. But if I lose honesty I won't be happy forever.” Through our lives, we can gain a lot and lose so much. But being honest should always be with us.

    I've loved my mother's desk since I was just tall enough to see above the top of it as mother sat doing letters. Standing by her chair, looking at the ink bottle, pens and white paper, I decided that the act of writing must be the most wonderful thing in the world.

    Years later, during her final illness, mother kept different things for my sister and brother. "But the desk," she said again, "is for Elizabeth."

    I never saw her angry, never saw her cry. I knew she loved me; she showed it in action. But as a young girl, I wanted heart-to-heart talks between mother and daughter.

    They never happened. And a gulf opened between us. I was" too emotional". But she lived "on the surface".

    As years passed and I had my own family. I loved my mother and thanked her for our happy family. I wrote to her in careful words and asked her to let me know in any way she chose that she did forgive me.

    I posted the letter and waited for her answer, none came.

    My hope turned to disappointment, then little interest and, finally peace. It seemed that nothing happened. I couldn't be sure that the letter had even got to Mother. I only knew that I had written it, and I could stop trying to make her into someone she was not.

    Now the presence of her desk told me, as she'd never been able to, that she was pleased that writing was my chosen work. I cleaned the desk carefully and found some papers inside—a photo of my father and a one-page letter, folded and refolded many times.

    Give me an answer, my letter asks, in any way you choose. Mother, you always choose the act that speaks louder than words.

Tips for Writing Short Stories

    I was reading an article with David Vann's top tips for writing short stories -- he is a published writer, his most famous book being, "Legends of a Suicide." First of all he stats that there are no rules, but if he were forced to create rules for short stores, then they would be something like the following.

    He says there is no room for anything that is not related to the protagonist -- the main character of the story -- or indeed the problem of the protagonist. He makes it clear that the protagonist must have a problem, and this problem must divide the protagonist: he doesn't know what he is going to do to solve the problem. There is no point, then, in having a short story about a man who says he is hungry and then just goes to the shops to buy food. Nothing exciting happens. But if the man is hungry and he has a child who is hungry, then he has a problem; who does he give the food to?

    There should also be an antagonist, that is, somebody who works against the protagonist. The antagonist should ideally have the same problem as the protagonist but will have a totally different way of looking at it. This presents the possibility of having battles in the short story.

    Furthermore, the antagonist and the protagonist must know each other. But because they are viewing the same problem from different angles, they will probably drive each other crazy.

    Finally, the short story has to acknowledge a change in the protagonist. We must then, as a reader, see how the character will continue their life differently as a result of the events of the story. There is no point in going back to the beginning; the short story is a waste of time if nothing actually happens that is significant.

    It is very hard to create a character whom a reader cares about and a plot that a reader is interested in with just a few hundred words. But it is possible: Edgar Allen Poe, Anton Chekhov, and JG Ballard -- amongst many others -- have proved repeatedly that short stores can be little pieces of perfection. The best don't just see the protagonist change; they see the reader change, too.

Why We Should Record Travel Moments

On a rainy summer day, I took a train to Switzerland and trekked through the mud to a medieval fortress high atop a cliff. After twisting through its dimly lit corridors, I finally {#blank#}1{#/blank#} (arrive) at the main viewpoint of Cave of the Fairies: a plunging 77m waterfall that shoots from underground into a sparkling pool. As the waterfall wet my jacket, I closed my eyes and took out my phone {#blank#}2{#/blank#} (record) the rush of dreamy reality before me.

I had come in search of a sound, not a sight.

Throughout my travels, I've found myself {#blank#}3{#/blank#} (collect) sound recordings the way other people collect souvenirs. Just as some travellers take photos of landscapes or their food, I started doing this as an artistic way to help me remember some of the most interesting details of my trips.

Environmental scientist Lauren Kuehne said, "I think that once you start to listen, once you actually start to listen, you start to appreciate how much {#blank#}4{#/blank#} (big) the world is."

This attitude {#blank#}5{#/blank#} (echo) by Samara Kester, a retired emergency medicine physician who now serves on QPI's board. "A photograph is two dimensions. {#blank#}6{#/blank#} you are looking at something you're seeing, it's maybe 180 degrees, maybe 270 degrees. Sound is 360 degrees. You hear it all around you." Kester explained {#blank#}7{#/blank#} teaching herself to be a better listener has not only expanded her sense of travel, but helped her relive her travels once she's back home. "You immerse {#blank#}8{#/blank#} in that place again. You recreate those memories and therefore recreate the feelings you had, {#blank#}9{#/blank#} are very hard to express clearly. You can re-experience that and that will send you to where you were before."

Months later back in my L.A. home, I find myself popping on my headphones and listening back to the rush of falling water inside Cave of the Fairies. When I close my eyes, I {#blank#}10{#/blank#} feel the spray of water against my skin, the sense of letting my ears lead me on a faraway adventure. Mentally, I'm right back there — if only for a moment.

    In my early thirties, I decided to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, the highest mountain in Africa at 5, 895meters above sea level. 

    After months of preparation, I started my great 1 . At the base of the mountain, I met Mik, a local porter, who warmly 2 me. Mik's job was to carry my equipment up the mountain, set up the tent, and carry everything back down after reaching the 3 . 

    The first day of the climb was 4 the rain forest, across a slippery , muddy ground covered with tree roots and vines (藤蔓) . Mik was carrying 30 kilos on his head! By that evening, we made it to 3, 000meters. The air was 5 and it was colder. When I arrived at the campsite for the night, my tent was already set up and waiting for me. 

    Day two was much steeper and rockier. I really had to 6 what I was doing. And I felt guilty for the tough 7 Mik had to work in. Yet when I turned to Mik, he said with the biggest smile, "pole, pole, "which means"8 , take it easy" in his native language. I 9 back, my burden lighter somehow. 

    Over the next five days, the climb got 10 difficult. The temperatures could 11 from 21℃to below freezing in a few hours. At 5, 700 meters, there's only half the oxygen 12 in each breath compared to at sea level. That leaves many people with severe headache. Yet Mik always had a smile and a positive attitude. It had an enormous impact on mo, giving me the 13 to keep going. 

    Even today, when I find myself 14 with anything in life, I just think back to Mik and his smile. A great attitude can bring joy to those around you, or even 15 strangers to the top of a mountain.