Sunday Drivers

I really shouldn't be let behind the wheel of the Berlingo-mobile.. probably ever again, but especially on a Sunday.

Last weekend I cunningly managed to leave the lights on while Ruth and I had lunch in a pub. By the time we returned, the battery was so flat that even the starter coil wouldn't heat up, so we couldn't even bump start it. Thankfully I did my best Damsel In Distress act to some blokes in the pub who saw us right.

Today I managed to get the back end of it stuck in a ditch after slipping off the sodden road in the deepest darkest depths of the forest. Unfortunately this time there were no helpful middle-aged men at hand, and even worse: I had no mobile recption so couldn't call for help. Which in some ways I'm relieved about, as the only person realistically who would have been able to do something is Raymond, the forester whom I first encountered after writing off my last car on only my second visit to my study site. Needless to say the cheeky chap has had a field day with me since, and the last thing he needs is more ammunition.

Anyway, faced with either a long walk or doing something about it myself, I opted for the latter. Poppy wasn't much assistance, and its fairly tricky negociating handbrakes, accelerating, steering, and pushing from behind etc when there's only one of you with opposable thumbs. However, with the infinitely useful twig, rock and heather in abundance, I somehow freed myself. Go me. Especially cos I didn't even have to get a boy to help :D

Have to say the engine isn't sounding too great as a result, but meh.. its the work van and I'm giving it back to them in a few days anyway.