Last week, a group of three of us packed our backpacks

and at 9am, jumped in S’s car, inputted Bordeaux, and got on track.

We were venturing through France on “Girls Trip”.

We figured we’d give the ole’ wine tasting a rip.

 

About four hours into our journey,

S’s car rumbled and smoked, like it needed a gurney.

As luck would have it, we were near an Aire

which is a “rest stop” in French, if you didn’t know where.

 

 

That part was quite lucky.  But since highways in French are privately owned,

just any tow truck couldn’t come help, with the way it was zoned.

To see what was the matter, the gals looked under the hood

they got an audience, a few men, who just stood.  (apparently this isn’t common in France)

A and I bided our time by taking advantage of the rest stop buffet

It included quarters of chicken, ratatouille, wine, – quite an array!

 

 

After an hour, help did arrive.

In a big blue tow truck, he did drive.

 

He took a look, and I thought he said “Bon Voyage”

but really he said, “C’est la embrayage” (the clutch)

 

Thank goodness S spoke fluent French.

Without her, A & I would have been in quite a pinch.

 

We loaded up the car onto the tow truck bed

And drove along Puy de Dome, with concerns of Bordeaux in our head.

 

 

In the little town, we waited and sat.

It took four hours to arrange a car, and to wait for a taxi at that.

 

 

The lady on the phone said the rental car location would be 4 kilometers.

After an hour backtracking and 100 euro, the error was hers.

 

We were at the airport of Clermont Ferrand

More waiting we did do, at the mercy of Europcar’s hand.

Finally, we jumped into our new car,

stopping at a Q-stop (like McDonald’s) before we got too far.

We drove again past the scene of the breakdown, the exact site,

and continued 5 hours to our destination, arriving at midnight.

 

Before it was time to lay our heads down,

S bought us a bottle of wine, to have a “We finally arrived” round.