Summer of 2003- my mum rang me up and asked if I would like to go on a road trip abroad. "Yeah", I replied gloomily, remembering that I am now an independent adult in the world of work, "But I'm a bit broke". "Oh, that's ok", replied she, "My treat".
It all kicked off to a good start when we got 6 free bottles of wine on the ferry. We celebrated by buying lots of little bottles of duty free perfume. Obviously. Disembarking at Calais, the sun glinting off the industrial monstrosities, we drove off into the distance, on the wrong side of the road.
Our route took us 5 days, through north-east France, Luxembourg, Germany and Belgium, seeing many sights along the way. We hung out in biker pubs and visited overwhelmingly huge WW cemetaries. We drove through mountains and forests and stopped to pee in farmer's fields. We stayed in a town on the border of Luxembourg and Germany where I proudly attempted to book a room in my best French, only to be confronted with a barrage of German, having somehow missed the invisible line that divides the single town into two language areas. Imagine nipping down to get a pint of milk and having to ask for it in Norweigan. That'd make Sunday morning interesting!