I’m not sleeping too well right now and it is all because of one thing.
It’s not work, it’s not about a relationship. It’s not something bad keeping me awake at nights. I’m laying in my bed, thinking about next weekend.
I’m laying awake purely because I am so excited. Excited for something which I do every year.
On the same weekend in July every year since we were able to drive, I have gone on a road trip with a two of my oldest friends. We have packed up our troubles and our lives, headed out on the road to a random place and had a party on the way.
It’s the weekend of my year and the only thing in my calendar which has never been re-arranged, double-booked or forgotten about. I’ve arranged holidays and work around this trip many, many times.
This year we’re off to Austria, driving through France, Belgium and Germany, before finally arriving in Austria.
The issue with driving through four countries is the logistics of know what we need to legally carry and what the rules are for each country. In Austria we need a vignette, just to drive on the road.
The only thing about researching the rules of the road for a foreign country, is that it makes you think about the rules of the road for home. What do I legally need to do to drive on the roads in the United Kingdom?
Do I need to carry a warning triangle? A high-vis jacket? A spare tyre? A hot drink in a thermos flask? There are many subtle and key rules for our own roads and it’s been such a long time since I last looked at a Highway Code, that I thought it was worth a quick look at the rule updates.
Luckily, it turns out that our foreign neighbours have far more severe rules and restrictions than we do. So by covering everything the French, German, Belgium and Austrians had to throw at us, we would be more than fine in the UK.
Now the only issue is how to survive a road trip with two other men in the early thirties who still think that it’s perfectly acceptable to pour lemonade onto the car seat, right before you sit down for a three-hour drive.
If anything the mere fact that the three of us have survived as friends for this long is purely testament to our ability to shrug off some of the most stupid and annoying character features anyone in the world could possibly have.
Having to carry a warning triangle or a first-aid kit, housed within the confines of water-proof and lockable box, are completely minor irritants compared to my friends. In fact, one day the first-aid kit could save my life, which is a damn sight more than I will ever be able to say about anyone else who will be in that car for the next nine-hundred miles.