Crossing the English Channel
At last, a keyboard!
PJ’s Nissan Micra Count: 10
Xin Hui’s Cool Vintage Car Count: 1
(The guy even had an aviator suit on, now why didn’t he give us a ride)
Interesting Conversation Count: 5
It’s taken us almost a day to get here from Oxford. So far, we’ve had the pleasure of the company and diverting conversation of a solicitor from Brighton, a Londoner living in Scotland who’d just returned from Singapore and was almost as obsessed about GPS as PJ is, a lanky lad on holiday for the weekend, a real British Orthodox Priest and a guy who lived half the year in Thailand and just so happened to be going to Portsmouth to visit a relative that night. Quite a change from those four hours on the side of the road in Oxford – it’s amazing how nice people can be; it certainly pays to be patient.
*
Unlike PJ, my hitch-hiking experience began a little earlier than I’d expected.
Last night, PJ and I had arranged to meet up to pack. Being heavily laden and unable to bike, I’d thought I’d drag my load on foot slowly to the bus terminal. When my bus finally arrived, the bus driver, seeing me in my overloaded state, had a strange twinkle in his eye as he politely refused to take my fare. I was speechless for a while, managed to contort my face into a shocked half-smile in gratitude and after what seemed like at least 30 seconds found my voice to thank him profusely. Oddly enough, no one else on the bus seemed to notice. Having grown up on Enid Blyton and her 13 o’clock, I had a bit of a moment there. As we pulled up at my stop, near PJ’s house at the other side of Oxford, I skipped to the front and thanked him again. He gave me a conspiratorial wink and I thought I caught that same twinkle in his eye as he bade me goodnight. I laughed, wished him well and stepped out into the spring night.
Now that’s not a bad start at all, is it? I hear people on the Continent are even friendlier – I’m looking forward to it!