Summer
What happens every summer, and sometimes at Easter:
Mami, Dad, Chrisie, Len and I drive to Germany to stay with my Grandma and the rest of my family. Yes, we DRIVE. This means getting up at 4 AM, witnessing a toaster fire or two, throwing the burning toaster out of the window with wild abandon*, and setting off too late, five of us crammed into the car and exasperated before we've even started. It means Radio 4 for at least four hours, (the Archers), a welcome break near Oxford somewhere, then the Channel Tunnel, where we queue for hours upon hours. When we finally board the train, Mami panics and looks into the darkness of the tunnel, her face quite clearly saying "If I don't see you again, remember I love you. I've had an OK life. Even if I'm the only one who picks up the towels in the bathroom." Dad sleeps, and grunts at anything that might disturb his sleep. Even at the nice French people who come and tell him to put the car into first gear.
After the Channel Tunnel, we have about eight hours to go. We get bored, travel sick, have arguments about whether the last biscuit was rightfully Len's or not. We drive through France and Belgium. We get sticky and frustrated, and sometimes we cry silent tears of sheer claustrophobia, forehead pressed against the cold glass window. When we get into Germany, we stop at the very first welcome break - in Aachen, and we eat curry wurst, or get told we can't have curry wurst. Cue tantrums.
Finally, anywhere between 12 to 18 hours later, we arrive at my grandma's flat, exhausted. My grandma always cries when she first sees us, after what seems like an eternity of missing her. By this point, I never want to get into another car. Nor do I ever want to see my family again.
This summer, I am spared all this. This summer, I'll be flying to Germany ON MY OWN to stay with an exchange student and my grandma. I'm then coming back ON MY OWN and staying in the house ON MY OWN because my family will be in Berlin. Chrisie only goes to chat up 20 year old Felix. Who has a girlfriend anyway.
I will maybe miss having 12 hours to think, at the same time as stamping out cramp in my leg, and staring blankly at the vast expanses of grey motorway whizzing past beneath me.
Or maybe not.
* When we returned from Germany after three weeks, we found a water-logged toaster in the garden. You wouldn't have thought it would still work, but it did. Ancient toasters are resilient creatures.
Mami, Dad, Chrisie, Len and I drive to Germany to stay with my Grandma and the rest of my family. Yes, we DRIVE. This means getting up at 4 AM, witnessing a toaster fire or two, throwing the burning toaster out of the window with wild abandon*, and setting off too late, five of us crammed into the car and exasperated before we've even started. It means Radio 4 for at least four hours, (the Archers), a welcome break near Oxford somewhere, then the Channel Tunnel, where we queue for hours upon hours. When we finally board the train, Mami panics and looks into the darkness of the tunnel, her face quite clearly saying "If I don't see you again, remember I love you. I've had an OK life. Even if I'm the only one who picks up the towels in the bathroom." Dad sleeps, and grunts at anything that might disturb his sleep. Even at the nice French people who come and tell him to put the car into first gear.
After the Channel Tunnel, we have about eight hours to go. We get bored, travel sick, have arguments about whether the last biscuit was rightfully Len's or not. We drive through France and Belgium. We get sticky and frustrated, and sometimes we cry silent tears of sheer claustrophobia, forehead pressed against the cold glass window. When we get into Germany, we stop at the very first welcome break - in Aachen, and we eat curry wurst, or get told we can't have curry wurst. Cue tantrums.
Finally, anywhere between 12 to 18 hours later, we arrive at my grandma's flat, exhausted. My grandma always cries when she first sees us, after what seems like an eternity of missing her. By this point, I never want to get into another car. Nor do I ever want to see my family again.
This summer, I am spared all this. This summer, I'll be flying to Germany ON MY OWN to stay with an exchange student and my grandma. I'm then coming back ON MY OWN and staying in the house ON MY OWN because my family will be in Berlin. Chrisie only goes to chat up 20 year old Felix. Who has a girlfriend anyway.
I will maybe miss having 12 hours to think, at the same time as stamping out cramp in my leg, and staring blankly at the vast expanses of grey motorway whizzing past beneath me.
Or maybe not.
* When we returned from Germany after three weeks, we found a water-logged toaster in the garden. You wouldn't have thought it would still work, but it did. Ancient toasters are resilient creatures.
kiwiqueen - 12. May, 22:44
