Friday, September 5, 2008
go w/t flo
Yesterday morning just driving calmly along the road, only 15 minutes behind on schedule, behind a big truck. At a crossing, suddenly a motor cop pops up redirecting the truck and me in my turn to turn off onto a different road. No explanation. Probably an accident. Let's go with the flow. Trust.
You've got to know, the country roads around there parts are very narrow. Two little cars can barely pass. Canals and reeds on either side, and then the fields. And here I am behind this truck, driving merrily along this little strip of asphalt laid down in the wet green ...
Miraculously all goes well for about 5 km and I am enjoying the green scenery. Wet and muddy too, the scenery. There's this early-morning freshness about the flat country with the sun just rising over the horizon and the light reflecting through the transparent flowers of reeds, I like it. It is one of the positives of getting up early and driving to work, this time of the year.
Just when I am thinking it is a pity that I can not stop somewhere and take a photo, because there is a line of cars following me and the truck, and we're all trying to get somewhere in time, and we're lucky all is going smoothly so far and we'd prolly best get off this narrow road barely wider than a cycling track as soon as possible, we encounter another truck. It is standing parked facing the other direction. It carries a sign on the front bumper, saying "CONVOI EXCEPTIONNEL". I pass it half way. And that is when everything stops.
I turn my engine off.
I have just passed a little bridge. The guy behind me turns on to the bridge. A glimmer of hope, is there a way out? Then he turns his car facing the rear of mine again. Bummer.
My car is jammed between the convoi exceptionnel and the canal. I get out of the car. There are others behind me as far as I can look.
About fifteen minutes later the motor cop arrives. His face bears a guilty expression. A few more cops arrive, but the first one has somehow disappeared. The fire brigade appears on the bridge, they are probably returning from the accident scene and trying to get back home. One of the cops goes to inquire with the truck drivers and comes back saying "this could be a while". All the cops and the firemen get out and stand watching with their arms crossed.
Walk up past the first truck.
See that there is a third truck parked on our side of the road in front of it.
Call the office.
Ask one of the firemen where we are.
Half an hour later, the line of cars on the road behind me has shrunk to about ten. I ask the man in the third car if he can roll back and out. He does, and suddenly all turn round. I am free. We are all free! Yay us! Duh the stupid coppers for redirecting thirty trucks all on a little country road.
That evening I go back to check if everyone has gone, and yes, all clear.
Non-verbal output during adventure:
Grin at the fireman.
Glare at the policeman.
Raise eyebrows in questioning manner at the truckdriver.
Shrug at first driver behind.
Wave thank you to third driver.