We go up the Fringe every year, aside from the year I got made redundant when we thought we should save the pennies, only for work to continue through to the end of the year.
We could have still gone is what I’m saying.
For the past few years we’ve driven up and it’s been awesome.
Except we can’t remember any of what we normally do.
We know we drive from here to Edinburgh on, mainly, the A1. We know we deviate from that route for scenic reasons – this year it’s castles and coastlines it appears. But we don’t know when we normally leave, what we do about breakfast or what time we generally arrive in Edinburgh.
And that’s before you factor in the fact that I might have Googled escape rooms along the route, just in case.
It’s also made a lot more interesting this year by the fact that the last time Carole took the car to the garage they buggered the radio so we’ll have to provide our own musical entertainment. Or, even worse, Carole will sing.
She was belting out Belinda Carlisle today, and that was just a short drive. Who knows what five hours will draw out of her? It’s made worse by the fact that when it comes to songs she only knows a few key lines which she will repeat for a while before morphing the whole thing into a different song. Usually R Kelly’s tribute to Orville the duck, “I believe I can fly”.
We’ve got tomorrow to work out what we normally do, as well as all those essential checks that need to be carried out on the car. Or, to put it another way, we get to spend some time at the petrol station fighting with an air hose, trying not to lose the little caps for the valves and distracting Carole from how low the pressure in her tyres is…
Wish us luck!