Coming back from that wedding a while ago on the straight, flat, through-little-villages A38 North East of Bristol in the wake of the Great British Fuel Blockade, my fuel gauge pinged to tell me I was running low on petrol, and dammit but every garage I passed for the next ten miles or so was closed.
After twenty, the gauge hit zero - "DH there is no petrol left, stop now" - and I was nowhere in site of a town or a filling station or a layby or a duck and, no choice, no option, I just kept on driving, convinced any moment it'd just run dry, judder to a halt, stop Unsafely, strand me here in Chipping Cum Bloody Bog Nowhere Gloucestershire, 3 hours from Home and Bed and Loved Ones and Everything and DAMN, DAMN!! BLOODY DAMN!!! but, no choice, no option, TWENTY FIVE I just kept on driving, kept on driving and........that's what this past fortnight's been like.
No liquid left. I've been running on the vapours in the tank. I've been hearing my own voice talking and I'm listening to it from two metres away across the room and it sounds like someone else's voice (have you ever had that?) and it's been, you know, hard work.
Breathing in those vapours...
But, hallelujah, now I've STOPPED.
Not in a grass ditch or on a dangerous corner, as far as I can tell, but at a point at last (and that is what happened against all odds in Chafing Slightly, Gloucs) where I may perchance Refuel, at a price. And that is good. And now I really need to swap this View for Another, for a week at least, and on a budget, and all things shall be fine. Most likely.
But where on earth shall I go? Eh?
Not camping, noooooohhhhhh!!!!
Trembling Blue Stars - 'Outside Looking Elsewhere' (2007)
Alright Colin ?
Actual fuel gauge not pictured. Mine's a nice digital one. Counts down mile by mile. Stressing you up nicely.
From one stresshead to another I hope you get your R&R. Patience is not totally elastic.
ReplyDeletecamping..... oh gawd the awfulness of it. the very thought has made me come over all funny. i'm off for a gin.
ReplyDeletei'm ever so glad you've made it through dearie. relax sit back and dig the sunshine
x
ps i've been totally fried by a long weekends dad visiting. lovely but exhausting.
x
I hope you and your Dad shared some top tunes? My day today started brilliantly with a little package in the post....x
ReplyDeleteMarc, you speak the truth and gracias companero.
Welcome home to the substantial, warm and cosy bosom of your blog world.
ReplyDeleteDr Dick prescribes a lie down, a jam butty, a snifter, and have a mind wander to Coles Corner or Cafe Blue and let your old dreams tank overflow.
Dr Dick you is my kinda GP. A snifter at Cafe Bleu on Coles Corner? Let me get the first one in.
ReplyDeletePS Miss Ally: We were persuaded to go camping a year or so ago by Big Tone, The Lovely Wife's eldest brother, who has outdoorsy leanings. We capped him at one night only. Even then, I decided the only way to cope with it was to drink copiously, and though this wasn't an absolutely risk free strategy given the loose children, paraffin, open fires, cowpats and midges, it did pull me through. Never again mind; I'm a mini bar/beer fridge kinda guy and I don't care who knows it.
ReplyDeleteCouldn't agree more - 'though I've fallen asleep out in the shed more than once with a 2 bar fire, a rancid pork pie and a slack handful of er, Knave magazines from 1978.
ReplyDeleteClassy.
ReplyDelete