Yesterday I picked up a rental car to bring home ready for a road trip. I have been stressing somewhat over this during the week as I knew I would have to bring it home alone. It is one thing driving on a country road with your Dad supervising and quite another driving a car home alone on street car tracks, at rush hour, in the dark, with cars coming out of nowhere from all directions. Anyway, after a small whoopsie, I abandoned the car in the car park of the local supermarket, looked at it angrily and went to the pub to find someone to park it up properly on a side street for me.
After a malibu and diet coke and a cup of tea and a natter at the pub, and some errands at home, I was ready to face the car again. This time I pottered off to the gym for a sunbed and then to the supermarket. Having a car for a short time meant I could purchase copious amounts of Diet Coke without having to carry it. It was so exciting to be able to just nip down the road and do these things. This was one of those moments where if I had been offered a plane home there and then I would have gone. The ease of being able to just nip out instead of having to get endless buses and streetcars, and standing around waiting in between is incredible. I knew I missed driving, but emotion just hit me like a sledgehammer. I suddenly wanted to be in my Kia crusing around the moors, the village and anywhere green.