Easter weekend travel foibles

I'm beginning to think that I should lock the doors and shut the shades and lay low for the four day Easter weekend.

Last year, I had gone camping in lovely Austria. I had returned Easter Sunday to a car which wouldn't start at the train station. As it was Easter Sunday, it had taken me over an hour to get by train from the airport (usually a quick 32 minute door to door trip) so I was already cranky.

As it was Germany on Easter Sunday, I knew that to call the car helpline would be useless as it wasn't a car emergency. The car was safely parked at the train station. Plus, I didn't feel like battling the helpline people who would skewer my crap German. So I decided just to take the bus home as nothing was open Easter Monday where I would need to drive, and then to have my work colleague deal with it on Tuesday.

Of course I just missed the 'once per hour Easter Sunday schedule' bus. As I was considering my options, it was hella cold and it started to spit flurries. Fortunately, I had not yet eaten and the Turkish pizza was open, so I went there to burn 45 minutes. Upon coming back to the bus station, a little crowd was waiting for the bus. A young man comes up to me and says something.

Not feeling in the mood, I claimed ingorance, of only speaking English, sorry. He seems stymied for a moment as he walks away and starts looking for something in his bag. He comes back in two minutes--perhaps this is better?

Yes, it was the Watchtower (the Jehovah's Witness publication), in English. Fortunately, he had his school English, and was now mentally prepared to give me the song and dance, in English, including the info that there are English meetings in Cologne.

I looked Heavenward, pondering the state of life.
Easter Sunday in Germany--probably no way to get someone to fix up the car as it's Easter Sunday in Germany--not willing to stress myself out trying to log the case in German--stuck in the freezing cold waiting for the bus on a commute which became 2,5 hours when it was normally 1 hour 10...and someone is trying to convert me.

-Fast forward, Easter 2009
Today, I was out and about shopping. I had a whole little circuit planned to maximize my time. What I didn't plan for was my driving ineptitute, and managing to whack a curb on the highway while going at highway speeds. If you were behind me on the highway, you would have thought I was drunk driving at 10.30 AM--no, just 'American driving'.

I made it ok to my destination after that. (OK meaning, if the trip time is estimated at 30 min, I add on one third of that to get lost.) I managed to give a good gash onto the hubcap. This is actually the 3rd time I've done this to a Benevolent Company J car, mind you. My only car incidents in my life are bumping curbs. For some reason, I can parallel park to within an inch either up or down hill, but God forbid I have a wide turn to make, all bets are off.

After shopping, I noticed that the tire was a teeny bit deflated. Considering how I whacked it, this was not surprising. I popped into a tire place on the way out to see what they had to say. They were able to look at it on the spot, and yes, that is an issue.

(Around this time, I was pondering how this would have worked in Germany...here's how it looked in my head:
-No, we cannot look at anything for the next three weeks, we're booked.
-Heck, they would have been closed Easter Saturday at 13.00 in any event.
-How did you manage to do this (insert withering stare here, of disbelief at such stupidity).
-Tsk tsk. or Haw-haw-haw, stupid American woman driver.)

Returning to reality....three guys looked at it. The one had mentioned, it probably needs a new tire, but how about they put on the spare so that I can get home? Duh, I hadn't thought to that angle. I was pondering that I would be trapped in Southeastern England, and today is the day I am scheduled to go home.

I am directed to a waiting room where I watch three of them zip to it, and 7 minutes later, it's done. (That included removing the case of local organic apple juice I had just bought out of the trunk to get to the tire.) As he looks in the boot for the tire, he doesn't say anything about the tray of tomato seedlings I have resting on the back shelf, although I see him giving it a quizzical look. "Sorry, I'm hauling around all this crap." His answer-->No worries, that's what a trunk is for, to haul around crap (smile).

They pop back into the office--all done. I ask, what's the damage. The answer? No cost, we only put on the spare tire for you. -->Are you serious?? Yep, for us that's hardly work (smile).

I adore this country.