Nose squashed and wheels buckled, my little, green car made its last ever journey today…to the breakers yard.
I was handed a cheque for 50 Euros (it was worth about 2,500 Euros before the accident), then asked to sign a piece of paper agreeing to its destruction.
As it was hoisted onto the back of a lorry I could feel myself welling up.
Not because I was particularly attached to the car (it is just a piece of metal after all), but because I was about to lose something far more precious: my freedom
I have fought so hard to get it back over that last few years that I am reluctant to let it go.
I live in rural France, there is no bus service, I don’t like to rely on others and without a car I feel trapped.
Usual jovial self should be back by tomorrow…promise