Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me! It’s been two years since my first adventure into the blogging world. Two years since I stumbled into flash fiction and made some amazing friends as I continue my journey as a writer.
But some things do not change. My first blog entry was about a trip to Croydon on Valentine’s Day to see a special friend. It was such a disastrous journey, I had to write about it. Since that Valentine's, every trip to Croydon has been taken by train after I vowed never to drive there again . . .Until New Year's Day this year.
New Year's Day would be quiet, the car that died on me on that Valentine’s night has been replaced. What could possibly go wrong?
Enter teenage son and his idea of a chilled night with friends. At our house. I even managed to talk Hubby into it. Never again.
They kept us up all night with their chit chat, movies, laughter. Eventually, all was quiet as they buggered off to McDonald's for breakfast. Far too early of course, but I didn’t tell them that as I wanted sleep.
The next thing I heard was hubby asking what time I’m leaving for Croydon. I wanted to be there for 10. It was now 10.30. My phone had a string of texts, asking what time I was arriving. I sleepily said 11, knowing any later, I wouldn’t go.
Easy peasy. half an hour to get ready. No problem. A quick shower, hair washed and dried, dressed and ready to go bang on 11. It’s easy when there’s no slap involved or breakfast.
But the weather was awful. So much rain! But I persevered. Every now and then, I thought I’d turn round in the next available place but when I reached one, I carried on as it didn’t seem too bad. Famous last words. . .
After a lovely day with my friend, it was the dreaded drive home. Still, lashing down had it’s upside; no traffic. But the amount of water was incredible. Darkness descended quickly. And then I hit a queue of traffic. I couldn’t see what the hold up was. The traffic crept along slowly and then I saw it. I know I swore. I know I gripped the steering wheel for dear life. I had no other choice but to drive through the flood, like a lake across the road. It was seeing the breakdown van on the other side, rescuing a stranded motorist that I relaxed. He would save me. I watched the 4x4 go through, half up the curb. I waited until he cleared it then went, keeping a steady speed, chanting ‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God' continually, heart pounding wildly. I’d never driven through a flood before. And punched the air when I reached the other side. I was feeling epic!
The next obstacle was my imagination as I drove through a valley, looking up at the army of towering trees, standing guard. The news had been full of landslides, trees blown down; I’d driven past a few on my journey. Of course, there was nothing I could do if a tree did decide to fall at the time of my passing through but it didn't stop me looking up, making sure they didn’t move. I was terrifying myself. But so relieved I reached open space. Until the forest.
Puddles. Floods. Wind, stupid car drivers not knowing how to drive in floods who slowed right down, breaking?? I kept my distance from those people in their gorgeous, too good for them Mini.
And after an hour and a half, I was home. I was relieved. But I couldn’t wait to share my epic journey, surviving floods and gales (see how the wind is now a gale). I declared I could drive through anything. I was awesome!
Needless to say, I haven’t driven since. Other than my Hubby up the wall but that's another story entirely. xx