A car accident.
Turning right on a mini-roundabout, our right of way. A car approached from our right, didn't even have the decency to slow down until after he'd hit us. Won't go into the logistics to demonstrate that it was our right of way, as those of us who have to live with them know the responsibility of accidents on roundabouts are a nightmare. Just trust me when I say it was our right of way. And that he didn't slow down. At all. It was as if he did it deliberately.
The damage to my car is at the rear end and the damage to his, at the front, which in the eyes of the law makes it pretty straight forward - it was his fault. My car, being as old as it is will get written off, and I don't want that as she's the most solid and reliable car I've ever had. It would be easier not to go through the insurance, being as the case was fairly straight forward and damage minimal. He basically said that he didn't care as his policy is protected, which in his eyes seems to give him licence to have as many accidents as he pleases.
In short, he was an arsehole. Who else but an arsehole would fail to slow down when approaching a roundabout and hit another car when his wife and kids were travelling with him?
After trying to report the accident and a dangerous driver to the police, he decides to phone me and say that he'll pay for the damage to my car. Why, we don't know but relief and at last a smile from me, as he's just admitted responsibility.
Today he phones again to tell me that he's changed his mind. After getting a quote for the cost of repair to his car, he can't afford to pay so is going through the insurance company. So an hour later the claim is in process. More stress, months of paperwork only to have my car written off. The only comforting thought is that it wasn't our fault.
I am OK though. It only caused one panic attack, no noticeable injuries and no worries from Baba. Thank you all for your wonderful support recently.... please forgive me if I stay underground for a while until the worst has passed. It's what we do, isn't it, when the cloud hangs around your head, and you just need to figure out how to get out of the pit. Wasn't going to pop by here, but the story of this ridiculous incident needed airing.
I have been painting like a mad woman, priming and decorating Barp's interior and she's looking good. I'm covered in paint and the bus is looking more like our home each day. Somehow, the work on our bus is proving incredible therapy. I feel for once as if I am doing something, and bringing us one step closer to leaving. And we all know that the best treatment for my depression is to leave.
Unfortunately though there are arseholes on the road all over the world, and we can't avoid them forever.