It's now six days since we landed and Chris and I remain in awe of our first class passenger - he was literally born to travel which can't be said for his mother. Early last Saturday morning as we hurtled towards Heathrow around the M25 I needed to go the loo so badly I nearly fainted. I finally managed to persuade Pod (my stepfather) to pull off at the next junction which he was initially against (with much huffing and puffing) as with only 20 miles left couldn't I just wait? NO I COULD NOT.
I think what finally changed his mind was my face turning red from lack of oxygen so he yanked the steering wheel and we found a road leading into a dark and dingy lane. I clambered from the car, wet wipes in hand, and darted to the nearest bush. This particular spot was a fly tip and the area littered to the beaming full moon and back with rubbish. It was so awful I mentally held everything in and instead weed like a racehorse.....right next to a plastic kettle.….
When it comes to needing a pit stop, quite literally, I'm your girl.