Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
13
The 4x4 Cliffhanger
Monsieur
, who had been perched on top of a large cushion, sprang out of the car.
Positively hopping with enthusiasm, he directed Jack into the front seat and Nicole and
me into the rear. He babbled away eagerly, explaining that following last night's storm it was
too wet to drive over the low-lying ground. Luckily, however, he would still be able to show
us the whole breadth of his land from the highest point. This seemed a perfectly reasonable
idea so we set off in search of the first
chemin
(track) that would take us there.
Puddles and pools of water lay everywhere causing the car to slip and slide, but we
were on level ground and driving at a sensible pace, so there was nothing to worry about.
He then swung the car towards a
chemin.
It was around 400 metres long and seemed, to the
untrained eye, to be almost vertical. It was also narrow (about a car's width) and extremely
muddy. The prospect of driving up it suddenly seemed a touch challenging.
I think it probably went so horribly wrong from this point on because
monsieur
insisted
on taking a racing start, launching the car at everything whilst simultaneously providing a
running commentary about his land. He allowed it to drift backwards for a few metres, then
looked over his shoulder.
“This might be a little bumpy,” he said with an unnerving glint in his eye.
Now engaging four-wheel drive, he slammed on his accelerator.
“Allez!” he shouted and cannoned towards the incline.
The car shot forward, bouncing off the banks on either side with mud and stones flying
everywhere as it battled with the practically perpendicular hill.
Then, just when I thought we were out of imminent danger as we approached the sum-
mit he bellowed, “The turn here is a bit difficult - hold on!”
He applied the handbrake with his right hand and holding the steering wheel in his left,
wrenched it round almost full circle. At the same time he stamped his foot on the accelerat-
or. The car slid sideways, smashed into the bank and made the 90-degree turn with nothing
at all to spare. It finally came to a juddering halt on the brow of the hill. Aghast, I turned to
poor Nicole who was as white as a sheet.
