The stories I have to tell...

English-Scottish border

Before anybody who doesn't know me in real life thinks otherwise: I am a chatterbox. I can talk about anything and nothing at all and quite often admittedly I do. Back in my old job I was occasionally told to shut up. Especially in the morning when others might not be as awake as I seemed to be. When I first started in that job, my colleagues had so many stories to tell. About the time J found a goat and transported him in the sleeping compartment of the bus. About A who used his rasor to do something to the ice during a 200 km skating race. About F who had to clean out the clogged toilet of the bus from below. I won't go further with that story. 

Trevi Fountain in Rome, Italy

Over the years, I gathered my own stories. About the time I got lost in Scotland. Although I didn't really, I just didn't do what I had set out to do and drove a large coach on a road that was wide enough for me only. About the time I drove up a steep hill in the South of Ireland, met a car and got the driver to panic because there wasn't enough room. There was though and finally her husband got out and parked the car two inches from the edge of the road. She was not amused!

Pont du Gard, Provence, France

I had luck in the South of France because a. I am a woman, b. I speak French and c. I asked. An accident with a large fire truck in the middle of the road. Everybody had to turn around, but I drove a coach. I asked in French how long it would take and two minutes later I drove through the grass and passed said fire truck. Everybody else still had to turn around. I had a birthday cake in Ireland. 

Gougan Barra, Co Cork, Ireland

I drove up Mount Vesuvius in Italy and nearly ruined the gear box. I got stuck in the sand in Germany. I was lead coach in Denmark when another coach had lost one of its side mirrors. Believe me: we need them. I nearly got stuck in a small town in the Netherlands, but managed to get out, the car that had to back down the road wasn't so lucky: there was a small pole behind his car that he failed to see. I got lost in Brussels. I got lost in Germany. I got lost in Italy. 

Tower Bridge, London, England

The woman who I knew was going to be a horror. She was one of the sweetest and funniest women ever, I even had to tell her to get back to the rear of the bus because I was laughing so much. The children I took to London. We Will Rock You. The couple who drove me mad on a trip to Italy, causing to have to call my dad in the middle of the night. The rest of the passengers on that same trip who refused to just enjoy the trip: they loaded the suitcases every morning, cleared out the bus and made sure the trip was a success despite that awful couple. The man who hated wearing shorts and came to ask me every day whether he could wear his jeans again.

Nearing the Channel Tunnel in France

The Italian doctor and the Irish driver. Driving at night, the hits and the misses. Even the accident in France has gained some sort of extra over the last year and a half. I have so many stories to tell, it's hard to pick one in particular. Because they all sit fresh in my mind. Hopefully at some future moment I will share some with you.

This was a prompted post by Spin Cycle. Thank you Ginny Marie at Lemon Drop Pie and Gretchen at Second Blooming.