Back Seat Driving

Alba Avram Mayıs 22, 2022

The annual family holiday has finally arrived and we are comfortably settled in a well appointed cottage in Cornwall. Now that all our sons are in permanent jobs the logistics of all getting time together was tricky, but at last here we are.

Leaving the island ,as usual, had its perils. Our neighbours laugh when we tell them we’re off.

'Oh I will note that date', they say, 'bound to be stormy or a heatwave!'

Sure enough we departed on the heels of Storm Brian. Fortunately we chose to fly, always a wise move in October. The airline is called Flybe, sadly it’s earned the title of flymaybe. I wonder why:)

Arriving in Southampton after an hour long delay, we had an overnight hotel before collecting the hire cars. After many years of being the co driver/navigator I made the excellent decision to hand over the baton to my sons.

Into the back seat to enjoy the journey down to Cornwall. 'Brian' by this time was fully weaned and definitely sharpening his teeth. Oh the pleasure of side window view, rather like the train. Not worrying about traffic or which road to take. Not my problem. Between navigating and driving my eldest son did well. In the second car , middle and youngest were taking turns to share the load. A perfect arrangement.

So often a journey has become stressful when sat nav acts up. On Saturday all went well. The journey is fairly straight forward with the usual traffic jams around Ringwood and Wimborne. Once through, the pleasures of open country roads revealed themselves.

Our cars shook as they surged forward through the storm. One moment violent rain showers, the next sunshine and rainbows. After Dorchester the skies brightened for a while. Enough to enjoy one of my favourite stretches of road. Rolling Dorset hills revealed majestic views towards the Jurassic coast. Thatched Cottages whizzed past, followed by very English red phone boxes blurring into another rain shower.

Much as I love the twists and turns of the stretch between Dorchester and Honiton it was good to join the dual carriageway of the A30, on its westward journey to Exeter and beyond.

By now Brian had given up on showers and was in full throated menace mode. By Oakhampton visibility was minimal and eldest son had taken over the helm. Even our fairly solid Nissan was wobbling and it took every ounce of energy keeping on track. Not that I cared in my cosy back seat, looking out on a grey moorland scene stretching out before me. Glimpses through the front were quite surreal. Spray from the cars ahead made them look ethereal. Almost like they were floating on a bed of steam.

Banter in the car was jovial; the fun of travelling together. The occasional text from car two to say that youngest had managed to go round the last roundabout three times. Surmises on the speed of the wind turbines as we passed them. Their blades in supersonic mode thanks to the storm. What might happen if the blades were blown off. Unthinkable.

Just before the cottage the obligatory supermarket stop for provisioning. Two trollers, seven shoppers, hilarious! Alcohol featured heavily. Enough food to feed an army, for at least two days. Plus the tricky operation of loading the bags back into the cars without losing the doors to the gale.

Finally destination reached. A perfect cottage for seven. Enormous kitchen, cosy and warm. Doors sealed against the elements.