The Cherry to my Pie

So. It turns out that the French equivalent for deer leaping out in front of you whilst driving in England comes in the form of Renault Twingos. Those stupid cars are more like Chiuauas - small, ratty and ridiculous, which barely live-up to their category of 'dog' or in the Twingo's case, 'car'.

Anyway, today was my first experience of a French Car Crash. Yes, I managed to crash the car - I guess it had to be done some time!! But as my Dad told me; 'In France, cars are there to be bumped'. It was only a slight bump - William or Crazy Caroline haven't reacted one teeny bit. Nada. Everythings STILL in one piece (there is no getting rid of this damn car!), and my car came off 'worse' than the minty-green 'TWINGO' in front which didn't even appear to have a scratch at all. Like colliding with a deer (not that I have any experience of that!), the deer leaps off into the next bush pretty much unscathed whilst you slowly drive your car back terrified of anything else that crosses your path, with your front lights hanging out of their sockets, a wing mirror left on the side of the road and half the bonet folded backwards over the car! 

I'd collected Juliette and Margot from Tennis, and was trying to get across town to get Marie and her friend to their ice skating lesson. The traffic was absolutely horrendous - all stop-go-stop-go-stop-go - when suddenly the Twingo ahead braked and I 'contacted' the bumper of the car. Juliette explained I was a 'foreigner' to the driver (and his friend) who both seemed completely unfazed by it all as if I'd hit his car with a beach ball! Juliette did all of the talking with them so I don't actually know what she was saying... And consequently no learned experience on how to cope in a car crash! I was more worried about what William or Crazy-o were going to say about it. The girls all got out of the car to inspect the front like some sort of School Trip or something ('back into the car school bus everyone!'), and I slowly and cautiously braved my way to the front of the car to see what damage there was. A huge sigh of relief to see that really the only difference was the corner of the number plate bent in, but still totally read-able. In the end, after Juliette talking with her father, the guys in the Twingo drove to the house (Juliette gave them the address). Whoopee. I could just imagine them twisting the story and making me out to be some awful, reckless driver (as if!) without me there to blame it on their stupid car. To my absolute HORROR, when I returned after finally getting Marie and friend to the ice skating 40 minutes late, there was the mint-green Twingo parked outside the house. Absolute cringe! I dropped off Juliette and Margot and sped off again! 

Such an AWFUL day though right from the beginning - It obviously was missing the cherry on top until this evening.