Google+ Followers

Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Wasps and Worcester

We took full advantage of the Cockliffe House breakfast on Tuesday morning before our road trip to Wales. There was a fire-engine outside but the fire officers assured us it was just a regular fire drill.
I got into the TransAm doing last minute checks of my handbag for the usual keys, phone etc. It was then I noticed a wasp on my lap. Gareth was just getting into the car when I let a blood-curdling scream out of me. He nearly leapt out of the car in alarm but I was straight out of the passenger seat, hysterical in the carpark. This garnered a few suspicious looks from the firemen mostly directed at Gareth, wondering what he had done to induce such a reaction! He coaxed me back into the car after awhile, I peered around anxious that another member of the wasp family would be back to greet me but I settled in. Gareth was a little in shock, given the fact I'd gotten used to the bushes beside the hotel populated with bees and we'd left the windows open on the two balmy nights we'd spent there which had encouraged a few long-legged spider friends to lurk around our room. Whilst he was settling me I saw a look of alarm pass over his features - I was about to berate him for winding me up, that this wasn't the place when he said ever so calmly "Get out, get out of the car,". Once again I leapt out shrieking, this time in tears. The wasp had been hiding in the T-bar of the car, awaiting my return!! Gareth managed to get the wasp out and stamp on him to death on the ground. It took a little longer to stem my emotions but eventually we took off on our journey. I was still shaking and hunched over; I have a full-blown phobia of wasps. He did his best to reassure me and after a bit even managed to have a little laugh about it with him telling me in loved me in spite of my crazy phobia.

We were speeding down the motorway, Gareth showing off about how the speedometer was off the mark in the TransAm and I drifted off to sleep for a bit in the heat of the summer sun (I wasn't allowing the windows open very much in case any other unwelcome visitors decided to appear). I woke up to a small explosion and the windscreen being completed flooded with an unrecognizable liquid....We quickly pulled in roadside and investigated. I, of course called Mum & Dad (although how they were likely to help, being in Ireland, I've no idea!) who said to call the AA, something Gareth was already doing. We had some fun with me steering the TransAm whilst he pushed (Fun for both given it's a HUGE old car) and sat on the side of the Motorway waiting for assistance. We were blessed with a beautiful day so I just people watched on the M5 in the hour and twenty minutes it took for the guys to arrive. I even had a read of Cosmo! There had been a mix-up with the AA, so the roadside assistance literally just towed us to the next exit, 1 mile away. After more communications with the AA we took a seat in the Three Pears Beefeater and decided no time like the present for a lunch break whilst they attempted to fix the ripped pipe (hence the over-heating and explosion). Unfortunately it couldn't be fixed, given that TransAm parts aren't exactly in the average AA truck these days but it meant Gareth could have a pint to ease the stress (and a vino for me!) and we climbed aboard the tow truck for the next leg of the journey.

After another little snooze we were informed that the driver could only take us over the border into Wales where we would make a change to another tow truck. I hadn't been told about the crossing of the Severn and it's beauty took me by surprise. On a gorgeous summer's day like we were experiencing I was surprised I didn't spot any wake-boarders! The stop was lucky in away as I got to freshen up a little before the final leg of the journey - it was over 8 hours since we'd left the hotel and I had a little bit to go before my first meeting with Gareth's family. I didn't want to arrive a stinky mess!! The last tow truck driver was a friendly man, full of chat about Wales and pointing out the sights. There were some tricky roads to manoeuvre coming to St Donat's but we passed through some quaint little towns and I could see the sea glittering in the distance. We eventually pulled up to St Donat's about 6.45pm, a little frazzled and at least 4 hours after expected and Gareth's Dad waved from outside the cottage as we disembarked, ready to meet the Cain family.

No comments:

Post a Comment