“No, I don’t quite know where I am.” I said.
“Do you know a local garage?”
“No, I have no idea of any garages in the area. Can you suggest any?”
“I’m sorry madam, in order to recover your car we need an address of the garage you want it taking to. Perhaps a garage near the registered address?”
“No, I can’t have my car sent back to Wales. I’ve driven from Preston. I’m at uni. And I need my car there, not in Wales.”
“Are you sure madam? We could have it recovered to the registered address for you?”
I’m in the middle of nowhere. Well, reasonably close to Alton Towers but if you’ve ever driven to Alton Towers you’ll know that the surrounding areas are pretty much just hills and trees. After not driving for 2 years, I’ve got this car and it breaks down one week in. Fabulous start. I’ve got a full car. We’re on a hill. There’s smoke all over the place and nobody knows what to do.
Thank god I agreed to add breakdown cover to my insurance policy. And thank god I called my mum who told me that now was the time to use it! Getting my money’s worth at least.
So I’ve done the crying. I’ve called my mum. We’ve called the guys in the car in front of us to come and help push the car up the hill and we wait. I can’t tell you how many people just drove past me. Even when I was crying! Bitches. By the way, I think my mum thought I was dead. Note to self: perhaps don’t call your mum in floods of tears when she knows you’re on your first big drive and probably doesn’t trust you in a car as it is!
The breakdown guy gave us a lift to Alton Towers, nice of him! We got a ride in a recovery van, with my poor little KA hanging off the back. Then we are just about to get on Nemesis and I find out the clutch has gone. Then we just get off The Flume and I remember my dry clothes are still in the boot, in a garage in Preston. £350, a train journey home and 3 days later we are reunited. Me, the car and the dry clothes.
One year later and we still pray for no breakdowns.