Cross Country for a Giggle.

I am the cat that got killed by curiosity and most certainly, the one brought back by satisfaction. And so, I find myself on the motorway with an entire 400km ahead of me. The idea neither overwhelms nor does it seem eternal. This surprises me given that the idea of sitting still for the duration of a movie usually sends me into a tiny bit of an inner panic: “What will I do for an hour AND A HALF? Will I be able to sit still? What if I get bored?!” – the latter being the worst out of the three. I have continuous ants in my pants. But here I was, on the motorway, on a road trip, all on my own, to go and visit my non-romantic other half.

We are infamous for spending our days laughing like others spend it breathing. People are surprised when one turns up without the other and even more so when our giggles are not the trumpet that announces our arrival.

We are what happens when the Chucklebrothers meet Dumb and Dumber. We are an instant feel good pair and I was off to submerge myself in a weekend of that. Whilst partaking in some cultural tourism, of course.

I found myself on the motorway, using all my might to make sure I didn’t speed when suddenly a voice rang out telling me to take the next exit off the motorway. I looked left, just in case, then right and realized I could see no exit and had no idea what I was being commanded when suddenly I decided it would also be a great idea to look at what the SatNav was suggesting. Sure enough, there was an exit and sure enough I decided the SatNav knew better than me and sure enough, I suddenly found myself on a country lane surrounded by a whole bunch of country.

Suddenly, I had 300km left and it looked like it was all going to be happening on country lanes. Bugger. I decided to trust the SatNav, though suddenly I did begin to worry that I had never actually updated it on the internet and perhaps I ought to have…perhaps it was silly of me to put all my faith in this little machine, called Tim by the way, who although was my homing pigeon, had also managed to get me lost on more than one occasion…Bugger.

At least the country side looked nice this time of the year. That was a plus as I went up mini mountains, came back down them. Turned sharp bends, avoided little lambs and tiny goats – which by the way I’ve decided I would like a few of - they just look so cute!

As I got sent through tiny villages that meandered their way around mountains, through crowds of their inhabitants who would stare mercilessly at the huge neon sign reading: “You know I know I’m bloody lost” that crowned the car, I began to realize I would have to stop at a petrol station soon and I sort of had to pee.

I had passed two petrol stations already but they all looked quite run down and old and empty and perhaps a little bit like a draft of one of Stephen King’s ‘Misery’-esque novels. And one of the last pieces of advice thrown my way by my father before I left was, “don’t stop in any small places. Just the big ones and be careful.” So I thought, well, I’m being careful, but perhaps so careful I’m going to end up pushing the car up the next mountain!

I made a promise I would stop at the next petrol station. Also, I really had to pee.

Although I was highly aware I was on country lanes and was absolutely sure there would be no speed cameras I was conscious that some police are just out to get people like me and that they could be in secret police cars with those little speedometer machines. Thus making every abandoned car a liability and ensuring I slowed down upon having spotted it…

I must add, in the interest of rectifying how paranoid I seem, that I did spot two police cars crawling along at some stage – in fact, I was going to overtake before I realized they were the reason we were all going so slowly. So I pulled back and sat twiddling my thumbs, waiting for them to pull over for a doughnut brake. Silver lining? At least I wouldn’t be fined for jaywalking since it was them that were causing it.

I continued to be sent around mountainside villages, I swerved a lone squirrel tail in the middle of the road, which I can only assume fell off someone’s hat and still, I had to pee. I was beginning to seriously consider my options…random bush, plastic bag, if only I were a boy! Instead I chose to wish upon a non visible star and find the silver lining: there was no silver lining!! I was going to wet myself. Suddenly I saw a petrol station peering out from amidst the green hills and my bladder breathed a sigh of relief.

I was aiming to pick my friend up from the school at which she works and so was following directions to that. Suddenly the country lanes fell away, the SatNav promised it was 6 minutes till I reached my destination and just like that a school materialized before me. I literally dumped the car and got out to make sure I wasn’t suffering a mirage in the middle of all this countryside.

I had arrived. I hadn’t had to push the car up any mountain. I hadn’t met any of Mr King’s characters, nor had I been stampeded by goats. I had arrived and I had 48 hours of pure laughter before I could do it all again in reverse.