🎶You, you’re drivin’ me crazy🎶

We have taken to travelling incognito.  It is a matter of life or death dear bloggees.  We’re wearing striped jerseys, short black satin skirts with side splits (Gaz looks particularly fetching), berets and a string of onions.   Nobody would recognise us as British.   We start lots of conversations with “listen, I shall only say zis once”.  Honestly I do believe we could fool anyone.

We have rubbed mud over  Mistress R Soul’s number plates and she has a big sign on her back saying “don’t blame us we voted “Remain”.  Oh bugger that’s a give away.   We wrote it in English.  Note to self “back to Google translate”.

The reason for the subterfuge is that we face death or serious injury every time we venture out in the car.  We are particular targets on roundabouts.   Gazzie follows French road law of keeping to the inside lane, signalling his intention to  be there, then signalling right to come off when he’s ready.  Suddenly there are three or four puce faced drivers , with not a signalling finger amongst them, inches, nay centimetres from our car, blowing their horns, gesticulating (I think that gesture is universal) while we just stop in confusion.   Causing more chaos, more anger, more fear.

There also must be a code language, known only to born and bred French people, which tells them the  direction to take, when the signs you’ve been following for ten miles (times 8, divided by 5 for kilometres) suddenly disappear and you’ve driven so many times round the roundabout looking for an exit you run out of petrol.   Even more very angry people.

Then we have the fully automatic petrol stations.  “Oh my goodness, what shall we do?   It’s all in French.  (Natch).  Don’t understand”.  You calm down.  It’s all quite simple.  You achieve your aim of inserting diesel into your car.   “ Diesel?   What’s the French for diesel?   What’s the French for petrol?   What’s the French for “I wanna go home.  I want my mummy”

Calm down, dear friends.  All is well.

Until, on checking our credit card we found 30 euros of petrol had cost 150 euros.   We had a sleepless night and rang the credit card company first thing next day.  Ok.  So here is the system.  The multi zillion pounds/euros profit earning petrol company are so afraid that the little guy is going to think of a way to take more petrol than he has paid for,  that it charges a 120 Euro pre authorisation on the credit card.  This amount can take up to 20 days to be repaid. How can this be legal?

Today we are ordering our Senior Citizen plus Rail Card.