The first warning signs came with the wind.
By late afternoon, Storm Bram had clenched its fists around South Lanarkshire, hurling sheets of rain across the M74 until the horizon blurred into a grey, shifting smear. Drivers pressed on through the downpour, wipers working furiously, tyres hissing over the slick tarmac.
Just after Abington, the storm made its presence known.
A lorry was the first to go—caught by a vicious crosswind that lifted its trailer like a toy and hurled it straight off the motorway and into a field. The screech of twisting metal cut through the roar of the weather.
Our bus wasn’t far behind.
Passengers gasped as we felt the crosswind shove at the side of the coach, the driver fighting the wheel to keep us steady. Ahead, a Hermes HGV rocked violently. For a terrifying moment it rose onto two wheels, balancing as if caught between disaster and miracle, before slamming back down onto the tarmac. A collective breath was released inside the bus—half disbelief, half gratitude that the driver of the HGV had somehow escaped being flipped.
But behind that miraculous save, chaos was already unfolding.
By 6pm, the motorway had become a scene of flashing blue lights and frantic motion. Police officers battled the weather as they ran between vehicles. Fire crews worked to free trapped passengers while paramedics tended to the injured, their calm voices contrasting sharply with the storm’s fury.
Traffic was stopped cold.
Southbound lanes were sealed at Junction 11, northbound at Junction 13. Drivers stepping from their vehicles were shoved back by gusts, soaked instantly by the relentless rain.
Authorities urged everyone to avoid travel unless absolutely essential.
Paisley Photographs 