Leave the other half at home.
Discussion
br d said:
Oh Christ I need to sleep!
Okay, first thing, look up thread for the name of the goat with hat on JandJ.
Driving to Paris I pulled into a service station, was really tired and needed feeding and watering. Pulled up at the pump and grabbed an empty water bottle and some bits of old hotel paperwork from the passenger seat, jumped out and stuff the rubbish into the bin adjacent to the pump. It was one of those tall boxey type things with a little flap you push open and the rubbish drops right down inside.
Stuck about a hundred euros of juice in and the car is already starting to attract attention. There was one of those service station restaurants next to the pump I was at and a few people standing outside smoking started taking pics and smiling.
I finish filling up, and start patting my pockets. No wallet.
Look all around the car. No wallet. I'm starting to get a little concerned, I know it was in the car, I remember throwing it on the passenger...
Oh s
t!
I go to the rubbish bin with a sinking heart, the flap is like a letterbox, it's about 4 inches wide and about three feet above where the actual bin must be. I know I have thrown my wallet in there. I slide in my arm but can't reach down far enough.
Right, don't panic, simple. I'll go into the pay bit and get the key to open the access panel or the bin.
The place is packed, I eventually get to the lady who has no English, I look around the whole place asking her "English?"
"Non"
I'm trying to mime opening the bin with a key but people in the queue are getting impatient and she's very busy.
I walk back out without paying and she calls something after me and I'm going "No problem, soon, soon".
I'm starting to get that sick feeling.
Outside the group of people round by the car has grown and there's another car waiting behind me for them pump.
Nothing else for it, I take off my jacket and get my hand as far into the bin as possible, to surprised looks from the bystanders. I flail about and manage to catch the corner of the bin bag, lifting it up I have to shove my other arm in too to fish about in the crap.
Crowd is growing, people are calling over their friends.
I can't feel the wallet anywhere so I have to start pulling the rubbish out through the flap a bit at a time and dropping it in a little pile on the forecourt in front of the car, half eaten sandwiches, rotten fruit and all types of slimy, smelly crap.
The locals are now laughing and nudging each other, surprised by this English lunatic who has pulled up in his Lamboghini and is now apparently digging around for food in the dustbins.
I find the wallet, it's virtually the last thing in there, I drop it to the side and then have to pick up all the crap from the floor and put it back in the bin. My right arm is now covered in crap and I've got nothing to wipe it with, I just want to get away from this bloody bin now so I go in, pay by fumbling with the wallet with my left hand only.
Get back in the car and I'm desperate to get in the little car park and go in and wash he crap off. I pull away and in my abject embarrassment at driving passed the (now large) assembled crowd I take the wrong turn, go straight up the slip road and I'm back on the fking motorway!
I now have to drive 40K to the next station with my left hand only while holding the stinking right arm up trying not to touch anything.
Idiot.
sOkay, first thing, look up thread for the name of the goat with hat on JandJ.
Driving to Paris I pulled into a service station, was really tired and needed feeding and watering. Pulled up at the pump and grabbed an empty water bottle and some bits of old hotel paperwork from the passenger seat, jumped out and stuff the rubbish into the bin adjacent to the pump. It was one of those tall boxey type things with a little flap you push open and the rubbish drops right down inside.
Stuck about a hundred euros of juice in and the car is already starting to attract attention. There was one of those service station restaurants next to the pump I was at and a few people standing outside smoking started taking pics and smiling.
I finish filling up, and start patting my pockets. No wallet.
Look all around the car. No wallet. I'm starting to get a little concerned, I know it was in the car, I remember throwing it on the passenger...
Oh s
t!I go to the rubbish bin with a sinking heart, the flap is like a letterbox, it's about 4 inches wide and about three feet above where the actual bin must be. I know I have thrown my wallet in there. I slide in my arm but can't reach down far enough.
Right, don't panic, simple. I'll go into the pay bit and get the key to open the access panel or the bin.
The place is packed, I eventually get to the lady who has no English, I look around the whole place asking her "English?"
"Non"
I'm trying to mime opening the bin with a key but people in the queue are getting impatient and she's very busy.
I walk back out without paying and she calls something after me and I'm going "No problem, soon, soon".
I'm starting to get that sick feeling.
Outside the group of people round by the car has grown and there's another car waiting behind me for them pump.
Nothing else for it, I take off my jacket and get my hand as far into the bin as possible, to surprised looks from the bystanders. I flail about and manage to catch the corner of the bin bag, lifting it up I have to shove my other arm in too to fish about in the crap.
Crowd is growing, people are calling over their friends.
I can't feel the wallet anywhere so I have to start pulling the rubbish out through the flap a bit at a time and dropping it in a little pile on the forecourt in front of the car, half eaten sandwiches, rotten fruit and all types of slimy, smelly crap.
The locals are now laughing and nudging each other, surprised by this English lunatic who has pulled up in his Lamboghini and is now apparently digging around for food in the dustbins.
I find the wallet, it's virtually the last thing in there, I drop it to the side and then have to pick up all the crap from the floor and put it back in the bin. My right arm is now covered in crap and I've got nothing to wipe it with, I just want to get away from this bloody bin now so I go in, pay by fumbling with the wallet with my left hand only.
Get back in the car and I'm desperate to get in the little car park and go in and wash he crap off. I pull away and in my abject embarrassment at driving passed the (now large) assembled crowd I take the wrong turn, go straight up the slip road and I'm back on the f
king motorway!I now have to drive 40K to the next station with my left hand only while holding the stinking right arm up trying not to touch anything.
Idiot.
t happens! 
Somehow I had missed this thread until somebody pointed me towards it. What a fantastic read for a Monday morning!!
My favourite parts being:
No mrs, Lambo, wine, cheese, sun, chateaus, French girls in your lambo (offering to wear a bikini), the Corsa button, specialist treatment in that restaurant, a goat called Anis and the story about throwing your wallet in the bin! (sorry!)
My favourite parts being:
No mrs, Lambo, wine, cheese, sun, chateaus, French girls in your lambo (offering to wear a bikini), the Corsa button, specialist treatment in that restaurant, a goat called Anis and the story about throwing your wallet in the bin! (sorry!)
br d said:
Okay, first thing, look up thread for the name of the goat with hat on JandJ.
Ta! Are you sure that is the name they were calling the Goat..... 
Great story there though, it could have been worse...... I don't know how as yet, but give me time and I'll think of some way..........
(Car pics in this post, I promise!)
Very funny JandJ, I actually did feel a complete arse. I didn't mind being a bell end as such, it's just a shame I was so tired or I would have made more of a show of it with the locals but I just wasn't functioning properly.
Thanks for quoting the whole thing Bosh, no hiding from it now eh? :-)
AyBee: Yeah well used to being neck deep in crap, you'll never hear me complain about my work, but when your supposedly living the dream :-)
HBM:
Right, hang on I'll Street view it.
On streetview it's called Charles Barrier, 101 Avenue de la Tranchee, Tours.
It definitely wasn't called that when I went so new management but it's in the same place, superb veggie food.
A quick moan about yesterday before I go on to today.
Fecking Paris. I swore I wouldn't go there again, couldn't stand it last time, went again anyway.
The hotel was ridiculously expensive, I shouldn't complain because I have to have secure parking and most of the hotels have street parking so I have to go to the good ones but really, they properly take the piss.
Somebody asked about the tunnels. I had a fantastic time driving up to Paris, there are some very long tunnels and I had fun scaring the Citroens by thrashing the car all the way through them in second gear. It's a bit different in the city though.
The hotel I booked was in La Defence district, there are loads of tunnels around this area. So, the satnav says "Follow route for 2 miles" you go into a tunnel, the satnav stops working, and when you come back out it says "Turn around when possible and go back 3 miles".
This happens again and again. I was driving round and round for a fecking hour, knackered.
Eventually I found a taxi rank, managed to convey my proplem in broken english to a wonderfully helpful cabby who for 10 Euros then drove to the hotel while I followed him, sweet.
Too tired to go out I ordered food for the room.
Now, thanks to everyone who has followed this thread, I really, genuinely appreciate it. I realise I am tooling around France in a very nice car and basically living the dream so don't want to come across like an arse but I come from a very different place to the one I'm in now, somewhere that you pay the going rate, where things are worth the price tag.
I ordered Scrambled egg and chips, this is it:
Fair enough, some nice dishes, a few condiments and a rolled up napkin, but this fking meal was 47 Euros. Yes, that's 47 fking Euros!
WT living F!
That's 40 quid for Scrambled egg and chips!
See, the council estate boy in me just wants to march down and say "What the fking fk are you playing at you robbing fking s!"
But I don't, I just smile and give the waiter a tip.
<sigh>
Where did my passion go?
Anyway, to todays update.
Arras.
What a great little town, only 30 minutes from Calais and very French. If you're considering a trip this would be a perfect place to start.
Lovely hotel, the L'angleterre. Good rates, nice rooms and the owner stopped the gendarmes giving me a ticket while I unloaded my luggage.
I'm on the 3rd floor overlooking a square and perfect for looking out the window, drinking and playing the guitar, so that finally paid off.
The parking is in a guarded car park, very secure:
The car park is several levels deep and very labrynthian, and there are these huge fans scattered about the walls:
So driving around feels like you're in a level of Descent, if anyone remembers that.
Some nice stuff parked in there, two 911's:
I thought this was really pretty. opinions?:
One for the bad parking thread:
And this beauty, which has been sadly left and neglected for too long:
Off to the town now to get pissed. It has a lovely cobbled square with restaurants and bars. My last night, coming back home in the morning. Will post again if I see anything worth noting.
Very funny JandJ, I actually did feel a complete arse. I didn't mind being a bell end as such, it's just a shame I was so tired or I would have made more of a show of it with the locals but I just wasn't functioning properly.
Thanks for quoting the whole thing Bosh, no hiding from it now eh? :-)
AyBee: Yeah well used to being neck deep in crap, you'll never hear me complain about my work, but when your supposedly living the dream :-)
HBM:
Right, hang on I'll Street view it.
On streetview it's called Charles Barrier, 101 Avenue de la Tranchee, Tours.
It definitely wasn't called that when I went so new management but it's in the same place, superb veggie food.
A quick moan about yesterday before I go on to today.
Fecking Paris. I swore I wouldn't go there again, couldn't stand it last time, went again anyway.
The hotel was ridiculously expensive, I shouldn't complain because I have to have secure parking and most of the hotels have street parking so I have to go to the good ones but really, they properly take the piss.
Somebody asked about the tunnels. I had a fantastic time driving up to Paris, there are some very long tunnels and I had fun scaring the Citroens by thrashing the car all the way through them in second gear. It's a bit different in the city though.
The hotel I booked was in La Defence district, there are loads of tunnels around this area. So, the satnav says "Follow route for 2 miles" you go into a tunnel, the satnav stops working, and when you come back out it says "Turn around when possible and go back 3 miles".
This happens again and again. I was driving round and round for a fecking hour, knackered.
Eventually I found a taxi rank, managed to convey my proplem in broken english to a wonderfully helpful cabby who for 10 Euros then drove to the hotel while I followed him, sweet.
Too tired to go out I ordered food for the room.
Now, thanks to everyone who has followed this thread, I really, genuinely appreciate it. I realise I am tooling around France in a very nice car and basically living the dream so don't want to come across like an arse but I come from a very different place to the one I'm in now, somewhere that you pay the going rate, where things are worth the price tag.
I ordered Scrambled egg and chips, this is it:
Fair enough, some nice dishes, a few condiments and a rolled up napkin, but this f
king meal was 47 Euros. Yes, that's 47 fking Euros!WT living F!
That's 40 quid for Scrambled egg and chips!
See, the council estate boy in me just wants to march down and say "What the f
king fk are you playing at you robbing fking s!"But I don't, I just smile and give the waiter a tip.
<sigh>
Where did my passion go?
Anyway, to todays update.
Arras.
What a great little town, only 30 minutes from Calais and very French. If you're considering a trip this would be a perfect place to start.
Lovely hotel, the L'angleterre. Good rates, nice rooms and the owner stopped the gendarmes giving me a ticket while I unloaded my luggage.
I'm on the 3rd floor overlooking a square and perfect for looking out the window, drinking and playing the guitar, so that finally paid off.
The parking is in a guarded car park, very secure:
The car park is several levels deep and very labrynthian, and there are these huge fans scattered about the walls:
So driving around feels like you're in a level of Descent, if anyone remembers that.
Some nice stuff parked in there, two 911's:
I thought this was really pretty. opinions?:
One for the bad parking thread:
And this beauty, which has been sadly left and neglected for too long:
Off to the town now to get pissed. It has a lovely cobbled square with restaurants and bars. My last night, coming back home in the morning. Will post again if I see anything worth noting.
Good grief, bad start to the evening. Asked the reception to send me up a Hieneken, they said they haven't any but have an equivalent. Go on then I say, they send me this:
No problem, it's quite nice.
While I'm faffing about writing a long post to PH and getting ready to go out I order three more.
Suddenly I feel rather pissed. Four beers? Am I still tired?
I then turn the last bottle around, oh dear:
That's bloody Special Brew strength! Wished they warned me.
Haven't even left the hotel yet and already don't know which ways Wednesday!
Tonight could be messy.
No problem, it's quite nice.
While I'm faffing about writing a long post to PH and getting ready to go out I order three more.
Suddenly I feel rather pissed. Four beers? Am I still tired?
I then turn the last bottle around, oh dear:
That's bloody Special Brew strength! Wished they warned me.
Haven't even left the hotel yet and already don't know which ways Wednesday!
Tonight could be messy.
Back in the hotel, bought some supplies:
Six Kronenbourgs and a handful of scratchcards. Scratched one, can't work out if I've won or not.
Shot down to the car park before I came back for a last check. This is my attempt at one of those art-wky pictures that proper auto journalists take:
Impressive eh?
Then I found another abandoned BMW:
And then walking back, I noticed that a half-arsed attempt at a PH smilie had been drawn into the 10 year old dust on the 7 series :-)
And then the whole trip was almost ruined by me having a stand up, screaming in the face fking row with 4 piss taking s of waiters in a restaurant in the Grand Place earlier.
Sat down fuming, working out the best strategy to smash the fking bar stool into their smug fking faces when I realised this might be a good time to text my other half.
She knows me better than myself, a few carefully chosen words, a quick call and I'm out of there and calming down.
This thread is named for leaving her at home, but as good as this trip has been, I'm pretty desperate to get back and see her.
Some things are fleeting and some are permanent.
Six Kronenbourgs and a handful of scratchcards. Scratched one, can't work out if I've won or not.
Shot down to the car park before I came back for a last check. This is my attempt at one of those art-w
ky pictures that proper auto journalists take:Impressive eh?
Then I found another abandoned BMW:
And then walking back, I noticed that a half-arsed attempt at a PH smilie had been drawn into the 10 year old dust on the 7 series :-)
And then the whole trip was almost ruined by me having a stand up, screaming in the face f
king row with 4 piss taking s of waiters in a restaurant in the Grand Place earlier.Sat down fuming, working out the best strategy to smash the f
king bar stool into their smug fking faces when I realised this might be a good time to text my other half. She knows me better than myself, a few carefully chosen words, a quick call and I'm out of there and calming down.
This thread is named for leaving her at home, but as good as this trip has been, I'm pretty desperate to get back and see her.
Some things are fleeting and some are permanent.
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