GERMANY
The weather of late has given rise to the phrase "snowing like a bastard". This will be old news to my German friends and readers, who are trekking through foot high drifts and battling cancelled flights. But, if you're reading this in the UK or elsewhere, let it be confirmed that in Germany, it is snowing like a bastard.
When combined with a Ukrainian Sat-Nav, which seemed to have been programmed with Vostok 1 era data, driving in our area is a task and a half.
So, driving the other night, me and Anna found ourselves in a place called Peffingen, which in my opinion hardly even qualifies for a name, with the car struggling up a steep steep hill. At the top, still following our trusty Sat-Nav, the road stops. Actually, I'm not certain it stopped, but it would have been a gay and inaccessible route in perfect weather.
The only option was reverse. And so we did.
Into a ditch.
Sideways.
At 45 degrees.
The weather of late has given rise to the phrase "snowing like a bastard". This will be old news to my German friends and readers, who are trekking through foot high drifts and battling cancelled flights. But, if you're reading this in the UK or elsewhere, let it be confirmed that in Germany, it is snowing like a bastard.
When combined with a Ukrainian Sat-Nav, which seemed to have been programmed with Vostok 1 era data, driving in our area is a task and a half.
So, driving the other night, me and Anna found ourselves in a place called Peffingen, which in my opinion hardly even qualifies for a name, with the car struggling up a steep steep hill. At the top, still following our trusty Sat-Nav, the road stops. Actually, I'm not certain it stopped, but it would have been a gay and inaccessible route in perfect weather.
The only option was reverse. And so we did.
Into a ditch.
Sideways.
At 45 degrees.
These pictures were taken the following day, seeing as it was dark when it actually happened. I don't actually think this picture does the angle and depth of the ditch justice. It was a fair ditch.In retrospect, we were pretty calm and happy all things considered. If it had been more bumpy and crashy, I might have been a bit more nervous. I wasn't even that bothered about climbing upwards over the gearbox and helping to open the driver door towards the sky.
Two old men, whose appearance, demeanour and choice of living location just screamed "we have tractors and other heavy duty vehicles that could easily pull a car out of a ditch" just stood by and watched. They didn't miss it. They actually watched. I know they were watching; they were the last things I saw before all I saw was a snowdrift.
Did they come over to the car to help us, when we were struggling with the door? Did they even ask if that 45 degree parking might have been a mistake? Did they shite.
So we waited for just over an hour in this cold, tiny village for a taxi.
Luckily, Anna knows other Ukrainian people with a Landrover Defender. If you've never been a passenger in a Landrover defender, there is no leg space whatsoever in the back. And unless you're a small person, the seat is so high that your eye level is above the top of the door window.
But, it pulls cars out of ditches.
This is us being rescued by Ukrainians, and the car after we'd scraped, shovelled and kicked a good 6 inches of snowfall off the outside. It was a fun day.
