All’s Well that Ends Well (Apart from Chaos at a Bavarian Market)

My car was a write off after the autostrada accident, and I had to wait anxiously for the verdict as to who was responsible for the crash. (Knowing Italians, I suspected that the easy explanation would be that I’m foreign, not used to the roads, and with a steering wheel on the wrong side, so it must have been my fault.)

However, the Albanian lorry driver was found guilty and now has a whopping fine and 6 points. Meanwhile, I’ve bought a new car.

To my surprise, Bill decided to do the whole long drive again in his car, probably wise rather than dreading the drive next year. In June, we reasoned, the weather would be gorgeous (it was) and the driving on motorways in Italy quieter on a Sunday.(True).

We stayed at a favourite hotel in Bavaria, but couldn’t park there because we saw a notice about a market in the main square the next morning. Leaving the car in the next street, we didn’t return to it until after breakfast, only to find that the market was there too, and the car was surrounded with boxes of vegetables and racks of clothes. Luckily I remembered the German for “I’m sorry”.

How to escape? We wheeled away the clothes and heaved crates about, helped grudgingly by the market traders, and finally set off again to reach Battaglia without further incidents that evening.

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