Now I've got my master technician back, I can chuck something onto this blog thing, so a quick catch-up.
I first noticed that is was a little quieter in the car, less conversation, less dance music and, worst of all, a lot fewer laughs. A little bit more 'where the hell am I?' and then I looked to my left and saw my strawberry-blond co pilotwas no longer with me and had naffed off to Blighty. A rather grumpy German had told his navigator that he was a sack of potatoes in Ullaaam Baatuur which hadn't gone down terribly well and the navigator packed his bags and flew back to the fatherland, so he's been on his own ever since. Well, I've been looking forward to my sack of potatoes returning to me which he finally has this evening. The things he'll do to get out of a bit of map-reading...
it's been a great few days and I've had a lot of support from our fellow travellers. Poland was very beautiful, and it was another weirdly emotional moment passing into Germany today. Another huge milestone for Priscilla who's beginning to think the whole joke's wearing a bit thin. Apart from most of the bodywork, the interior is now giving up the ghost and door surrounds and fabric are all hanging off. If we ever come to sell her, I'm not entirely sure we'll get away with the 'one careful owner' tag.
Beginning to tune in a little to planet earth now, and really looking forward to getting back to everything, but still loving every minute. Us and another Ford Pilot (great guys who have had an unbelievable experience and only been on the rally about 5 days, otherwise running 2 days behind us) are the only two cars not to have got a Bronze medal. Very exciting and we have had heated discussions about who should really be winning our own particular competition!
All good fun and can't believe that the impossible dream of Paris might just come off after all. Clutch still knackered, but otherwise all well and so fingers still firmly crossed.
2 comments:
Wow - you may not have won a rosette from the organisers but you certainly deserve an equivalent literary prize (perhaps not the Booker this year though) for the gripping instalments of "Tiptoes and the strawberry blond navigator". And the pics arent bad either - perhaps a few more of the nighclubs might have gone down well?...
But if you dont get any such recognition, let me raise a glass with all your admirers who read this blog with such enjoyment and awe - To Barton and Roupell, intrepid adventurers in the old style. A toast to celebrate, among other things, your ability to iron (and wear respectively) a purple shirt and for having at least tried to make a russian smile - perhaps sucess with the last would have been the greatest feat of all...
May Paris now be kind to you, and if you wish to leave Priscilla behind, we all have a friend in Reading who will still remember from his misbegotten youth every blade of grass and bush in the Bois de Bologne where you would be able to hide her.
A bientot
Julian
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