Since the departure, the children have been asking every five minutes: "When will we be there?" That keeps them awake. If it's noticeably quiet in the back, you might have to take a quick look to make sure you haven't forgotten your children at the last motorway service station. It can happen. No, they're taking a nap, fine. 35 degrees. Someone in the neighbouring car is sweating with a dark red head, panting like a sheepdog in a sauna. "Air conditioning broken?" "Nah, electric car, battery almost flat, either air conditioning or make the ten kilometres to the charging station!"
Two metres forwards, stop. If everything is stationary, you could get something to eat from the boot. As soon as I'm at the open hatch, it's ten metres forward. Sprint after it, stop. Ah, the sausage slices look like roofing felt. Another three metres. Yikes, warm Coke and cheese fondue in the Tupperware. Suddenly, three guys stand next to me and ask if they can buy something here. At 15 euros for a sausage sandwich, I get weak and add a bar of liquid chocolate for the kids. The kids? How funny, ours play hide and seek in the avalanche of cars, others start a football match between the cars, the older ones prefer to twist wing mirrors. Fun is guaranteed. The left lane is running. I'm always in the wrong lane. It was only two metres. Hey, there's someone rolling past with eight boards on an old, bent suitcase roof rack. Brave. The right-hand lane is also moving a little, until - well, bravo, now it's also a single lane because of a roadworks site and nobody is working, on a normal Sunday. Typical Italy.
Oh, what's that? Rescue lane? Police? Fire brigade? Thank God they're behind us. Ah yes, the Tesla is on fire, could have left the air conditioning running. Then finally, just a hundred metres to the end of the roadworks. 90 metres, 80 metres, emergency braking, what's that now? Eight windsurf boards are blocking the road! They've slipped off the roof of my mate's packhorse. Have a good holiday, I'm already looking forward to the journey home...
