Mr. Waffle and I drove herself to England at the start of October. Having finished a degree in foreign parts you would think she might come home but no, she is doing a master’s as well. The whole thing was rendered a great deal more stressful than it might have been by having the car booked in for a service the day before departure. It was going to be ready, then it wasn’t, then they were waiting for a part. It was a roller coaster during which we looked up hire cars (not actually very easy to find car hire people who will let you take the car out of the jurisdiction) and investigated how to change the ferry booking. There was a great deal of trauma which is frankly being skimmed over in this paragraph.
This was the first time Mr. Waffle had done this trip and he kept commenting on how onerous it was. “It’s even worse when you have to do all the driving yourself,” I kept saying grumpily.
