Hang on a minute! At least read the next two sentences before you go passing judgment, buddy...
We crashed in France. On the first day of our trip.
And to add insult to injury, we then had to spend five showerless days living in a mechanic's carpark in Bellebrune, aka the middle of friggin' nowhere!
The nightmare began at about 8.45pm on Monday September 8, 2008. We were travelling along a quaint country road on our way to Rouen, our first point of call, when kaplunk! The ball joint on one of our front tyres broke – meaning we lost all control over the steering and veered off the side of the road and into a ditch.
Good times.
The first car to drive past was driven by a farmer who spoke no English (just like everyone in the other 10 cars that passed us), but he knew someone who did, so he drove us five minutes away to a local B&B where the English-speaking owner called a tow truck for us. Eventually the truck came, and thanks to our new personal translator, we organised to sleep in the van in the parking lot of the garage.
The highlight of our time in Bellebrune was when the receptionist gave us four eggs one evening to cook for dinner (aside from the tongue incident, we had been existing off some bread and tins of baked beans we bought before we left the UK). Yes it was that bad.
Finally, on Friday September 12, 2008, we were given the all clear to leave Bellebrune and the parking lot we called home. So, after five days and $AUD1750 (mega ouch) worth of repairs, we were finally on our way to the City of Love, and very much-needed showers.