Oh. How could I forget
For years, my story of "How I rolled my car" was the same one I had given the French police - that coming around the corner, I had hit a patch of gravel, the car had started to go off the road, and in my haste to get back on the road, the over-compensations left me side-on in the road, but with all of my momentum still travelling down it.

That's almost accurate. Except for the bit about the gravel. Truth was, I was looking at the river at the side of the road (kayaker, so quite interested in inspecting rivers), and by the time I looked back, I realised I hadn't made the complete turn that the road required me to take...

On the plus side, I managed to get out of the car, set up the warning triangle, and get the first aid kit out (for the scratches on my elbow). What I couldn't get across to the helpful French people (who didn't speak English, and I didn't speak French), was that the nasty gashes on my head were in fact from a completely unrelated incident, where I had hit my head on the boot door that morning.

Hmm. All my stories seem to involve cars. Maybe it's true that the brain ceases working as soon as I get in one.
(Damien_The_Unbeliever, Sat 4 Sep 2004, 12:47, Reply)