I need a man …

The where to cross the border decision was made very easily in the end, by a website – fed up with rain and cold I looked for the best forecast and am now warm and dry at Argelès-sur-mer just south of Perpignan. Impatient to be warm I crossed from north of Bordeaux in two long driving days, I wasn’t that impatient that I couldn’t take the pretty route tho’. Forsaking the delights of Toulouse I dropped diagonally down to Lannemezan and then via Foix, the pretty route. I really enjoyed a little practice run on the hair pins around Quillans and will cross the true Pyrénnées later this week.

I find I’m quite nervous about moving into Spain. I’m very comfortable in France, speaking enough French to get by easily (and even get compliments). I speak only half a dozen words of Spanish – hence the procrastination. I shall be clutching the Spanish phrase book very close …

Shame then, that last night I did not clutch my keys very close, ironically it only happened because I popped out to check the cab doors were locked. The habitation door sometimes opens from the inside without fully disengaging the lock and pushing the door to, so that the resident escapologist didn’t, I soon discovered that the cab doors were indeed also locked and I was on the outside with the keys on the inside … I hate being helpless, especially since a lot of men seem to take great delight in being patronising on such occasions. However the charming Dutchman replied with a very unpatronising “Oh shit” when asked if he had a ladder so I could get up on the roof and in via the thankfully open skylights. He then proceeded to break and enter himself by scrambling up over the bonnet, made short work of the closers and flyscreen and lowered himself into the cab – at this point I had visions of having to re-replace the table mount! – then dropped onto the chair and exited via the habitation door. All my panicked visions of spending the night outside shivering and being eaten to death by mozzies, whilst the trapped inside dog howled the night away in distress, instantly faded. I hugged my superhero Dutchman (and his long-suffering wife) and am now pondering the inescapable fact that a man might be a useful thing to have …

Should I write a job description … or just buy a key safe?

🙂 🙂 🙂

(no photos today as upload speed almost non-existent)

9 thoughts on “I need a man …

  1. key safe or a few bottles of beer stashed away to repay kindly Dutch gents? Seriously though, I think you are amazing doing all this travelling single handed – an inspiration to others for sure x

    1. That’s so kind of you Sandra, thank you.
      I think I’ll go for the bottles of beer option, then if find I’ve had no need of a Dutch gent by the sell by date, well I wouldn’t want to waste them … I think that’s what’s called a win win situation 😉

  2. Hi glad all ok It’s happened to all of us at sometime, I usually say Oooooooo Betty. Baxterbus is right though you are an inspiration to others, You remind me of a TV documentary about a Aussie lady fed up sat at home, got a motorhome and travelled from south all the way up the east coast of Australia, she had a great time over several months and looked and felt 20 years younger ended up fishing with a male chap (Dunno if he was Dutch or not) Hope sun comes out for you and killer (daisy) Mike

  3. That happened to me once in Page, Arizona. My rescuer was a locksmith who drove out to my rescue in his pajamas and slipper socks. I bought a key safe from him that night and have happily used it on several other occasions. Happy and safe travels!

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