You Did Say Have Another Sausage by John Meadows

Author:John Meadows
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Amusing Anecdotes, Observational Humour, Light-hearted, Funny Tales, True Stories, Comic Situations, Northern Wit, Fun Holiday Read, Commuter Read, Art, Galleries, Summer Camp, Life Drawing, American Counsellor, Greyhound bus, USA Road Trip, Travel, Parachute Jump, School Trip
ISBN: 9781785383861
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2016-02-04T05:00:00+00:00

Paradise Found

During breakfast one morning, Moose came over to join Richard and me. He seemed slightly breathless and in a state of mild panic as he spluttered, “I sure hope you English guys are able to help me out?”

“Of course, if we can,” I replied without hesitation.

“Providing it doesn’t involve a tennis tournament,” added Richard mischievously.

“Do you have English driving licences, and, more importantly, do you have them with you?”

“Sorry, I can’t drive,” answered Richard immediately. Moose’s mood seemed to deflate further as he turned to me with a look of ‘last resort’ in his eyes.

“Yes, I have brought mine,” I responded, wondering what all the fuss was about.

“Fantastic,” he exclaimed with a sigh of relief. “And does it authorise you to drive a gear-shift vehicle? You know the type, where you depress the clutch and change the gear with your hand at the same time.” He mimed the movements as he spoke.

“Is there any other kind?” I asked incredulously.

“Everyone here has only ever driven automatic cars and we have just taken delivery of a hire-truck, but it has column-change gears.”

“Whoa, hang on Moose, what’s a column-change?”

He gave me a woeful look as if his last chance had just evaporated before his eyes. And, still, Richard and I did not have a clue what was going on. Moose went on to explain that an outward-bound expedition to north Michigan was due to leave immediately until he discovered that they did not have a suitably-qualified driver.

“Okay, let’s go and have a look,” I suggested co-operatively.

I expected to see some sort of American pick-up truck, straight out of the movies. You know the type, with the obligatory buffalo horns at the front and perhaps a road-kill moose strapped to the roof. However, to my horror I was confronted by a huge truck as intimidating as a Sherman tank. The two delivery drivers were waiting, anxious to leave, either with the truck or in their second car. They were burly, lavishly-bearded characters who looked as though they resided permanently in the woods. One of them tapped his watch impatiently as he told Moose in no uncertain terms that they were running behind schedule. It seemed as though it was now all down to me, so I agreed to a quick trial run. So my first experience of driving abroad, on the right side (or perhaps I should say the wrong side) of the road was in a 15cwt truck equipped to carry passengers, supplies, and equipment, in this case plastic Eskimo kayaks. I soon got used to the gear leaver being under the steering wheel and changing with my right hand. At least the clutch was still situated under the left foot, otherwise I would have needed the dexterity and co-ordination of a drummer in a rock band. The ‘Grizzly Adams’ lookalike in the passenger seat gave me his seal of approval, but it was not the most stringent of driving tests as I merely drove down the road and back.

“Can you be ready in about fifteen minutes?” asked Moose with some relief in his voice.

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