Today, I am going to tell you about one crazy night. First we drove for miles and miles, up and down these narrow, twisting roads with the black silhouettes of trees rising up on either side of us, reaching forward with their sharp, twiggy fingers…
So we drove along these “roads” (notice the quotation marks, I mean, really, they were like hiking trails) until we came to this random village in the middle of nowhere. It was pouring with rain – the kind of rain that hates you and soaks you the minute you step outside. We had dinner in this really kind of pathetic attempt at an old Irish pub, in this freaky little town, which, by the way, wasn’t even on the map. Seriously. The food was good, though. Also, my mom brought these quiz sheets from everything to Spanish vocabulary to the universe to the Periodic table… Oh, and can’t these scientists at least make it easier for us poor ignorant idiots, by just making abbreviations of the English names instead of English and Latin? Because tungsten is W. W, people. And iron is Fe and silver is Ag and gold is Au and sodium is Na. What is with that?
But I’m getting off subject.
After we finished our dinner, we got back in the van and drove back over the narrow twisting roads, and the black silhouette trees, and all that until we got back to the campsite, went to the suckish bathrooms (note to owners of the campsite, that mottled black-and-white tile was a bad idea. I literally thought the floor was covered in poo until I stepped on it.) Then we spent four hours trying to find our campsite and then make those beds in the Jucy, only to find our sunscreen had exploded.
All the gooey white stuff was covering the underneath-the-passenger-seat part of the van, and nobody could figure out how it had happened. It was still pouring with rain but the campers who were about 1 meter away from us were all outside under a tarp, drinking and shouting to each other. With our nerves a little shattered, we sat down to watch some TV before bed – because we certainly weren’t going to get any sleep. About halfway through, my mom switched positions, and put her hand down on the engine. It was burning up.
And it had to be at least four hours since we had last driven the thing.
Then we realized our sunscreen had been sitting on top of it.
It hadn’t exploded.
It had boiled.
Now our nerves were really shattered. My head was full of images of the van exploding, a great big fireball in the middle of the campsite, with the limp, lifeless bodies of four people being thrown into the air, charred black…
Yeah, you get the picture.
Breathing hard, we didn’t know whether to go to sleep and hope for the best or try to find a hotel for the night. I was all for Option Number Two, but the problem with that was that it was seriously not recommended driving at night. There’s cliffs, ditches, random kangaroos hopping across the roads. A whole lot of safety hazards.
Eventually, we just decided to watch another Modern Family and wait to see what happened with the boiler. It was hilarious, like always, but our hearts just weren’t in it. We might’ve gone to sleep if there hadn’t been some awful Australian guys swearing and drinking right next door, and a big house up on the hill with a giant party going on.
It was pretty much like this:
“Would you beeping shut up-“
“Don’t run around with that sparkler, Emma!”
“Save some punch for other people, kids!”
“I beeping thought beeping told you to beeping shut up.”
“I said don’t run around with the sparklers!’
“Give me another beeping beer.”
“Are you trying to set yourself on fire?”
After the third episode, I think we’d all had enough of the Swearing&Drunk crew and Emma and her sparkler. We cracked. It was now midnight. My mom got back behind the wheel and stepped on the gas, and we drove around for a while trying to avoid the flooding rivers (but still thinking that we were about to explode in the van) until we found a lady who our mom likes to call the Angel from Heaven or the Fairy Godmother. She made a few calls and got us a really nice cabin, free of charge, for the night. It was amazing.
I love happy endings.