Mindy Hammond is planning a summer vacation in France

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For so long, we waited – we punctuated our living rooms, religiously practiced our daily exercise but, above all, we got stuck at home. Finally, freedom is ours. We can eat in a restaurant, stop drinking at home, eat in the pub if we feel like it and, better yet, we have the right to go on vacation.The writing seemed to be on the wall a few weeks ago, even before Boris made his long-awaited announcement, and because everyone in our house was eager to book a vacation, I started watching France.

As I scanned various websites and drooled over sun-drenched villas, their availability vanished before my eyes. Whether the destination was rural or coastal, a large castle or a small villa, it seemed like we weren’t the only ones who wanted to travel. Hundreds of sun seekers were making appointments. Well, of course they were. The French had just been granted their freedom. They were ahead of us in the recovery race and as we all know the French love to stay. Our vacation plans were therefore threatened by natives and foreign visitors like us.

Everyone agreed that we were going to France this year and most importantly, Izzy said she wanted to take her Mini (well, it’s a convertible). It was a homerun for the parents. While Izzy was driving, she was unwilling to go down to the south coast. In fact, she started talking enthusiastically about the Loire Valley or Dordogne chateaux (we’ve been trying to persuade the girls to go for years).But even though we were able to find incredible accommodation, by the time we sat down to discuss our plans and finally make a decision, each the place was booked. I suspected that we had more Brits than French on our dates. We had to be safe in a 28 day cancellation period prior to our arrival, just in case Boris and Emmanuel wouldn’t agree to let their fellow Channel skip the start of July. And we certainly weren’t the only ones crossing our fingers with a fallback plan.

Finally, we booked a beautiful place in rural France and we allowed ourselves to believe that we would go on vacation. And then the indecision started. Izzy was absolutely, categorically drive his little Mini. So I booked for a full service with the local garage. “But then you should take the Mustang,” she told me. “Then we can both drive with our roofs down. It will be amazing. ”

I thought about this for a while. “Well, yes, that would be nice – but what about all of our luggage? ”

Then Richard joined in the conversation, “Ooh, I could take a bike. Or not, wait, if you both take soft-top cars, maybe I should too. Hmm … Which one, however?

Izzy, Willow and I looked at each other in puzzlement. “Now, girls, how many years have I waited to drive across France with you?” I just have to drive something special.

Willow rolled her eyes, “But you won’t exactly be with us, will you?” You will be in another car. A two-seater, an old car that will probably break down because its 100-year-old big-butt fly-to-joint chain or something is going to explode and we’ll all end up sitting on the side of the road in waiting for the agency. automobile, or whatever the name is, to save us.

“We will be stuck for days in a small cottage above a cow barn filled with old excrement and without air conditioning in the back of nowhere waiting for a man with the right size key to fix it.”

“You’ll drink wine until you can’t walk to get over the trauma, we’ll miss half of our vacation, and come home mushy and miserable.

Well, that told him. “I promise that if I take an old car and it breaks down, the usual rules apply. You leave me and continue despite everything. He gave us a pleading smile.

So the holidays are booked, I’ll probably take the old find in case I need to rescue or tow someone, and Lord only knows what means of travel my dear husband will ultimately take. I’ll have to get the A / C fixed or I’ll be a mushy, sweaty mess after two days on the road.

It is, of course, unless someone breaks down …



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