Up early and away. Betsy trundled out of camp while everyone was still asleep. I lay on mum’s lap as we left camp, then town then Italy.
It was Raining as we entered Switzerland and started the long climb up the mountains to the Gothard Tunnel. As we got close everything came to a halt.
What’s up Betsy why are we not moving? Sore paw again? Mum said a red light was stopping her. Funny no red light would stop me so why stop? Betsy started to role and we were soon in the long long long tunnel. Out the other side it was sunny as we hurtled down the mountain into the valley below.
Betsy was bombing it, as fast as me at full pelt. She slowed down as we got to Lucerne, she was being careful because of all of the cars. Lucerne was a memory by the time she got us to Basel. Everything slowed. We were in slow busy traffic for ages, a least I got to put my nose out of the window. Betsy stopped at the guard huts where the policemen checked peoplsees passports. He was happy and we were all good to continue.
In Germany the skys got dark very quickly and the clouds were angry with each other. They crashed and banged into each other water falling, sheet after sheet after sheet. Betsy slowed jut to see where she was going. Crash, crackle, bang. I don’t like German clouds. It was a very long stretch before the rain stopped and Betsy took us off the Autobahn. When she did she needed a big drink of diesel.
The man in the phone started to tell her where to go. This I when it got tense. Dad was not happy being told to go through small townships. The man in the phone then took Betsy out into the country, dad was getting angry. He finally blew when Betsy was barred from going any further because she was too tall! The man in the phone is a numpty.
Dad took Betsy back to the petrol station and asked the man in there how to get too Burgen. Off we went again. We got into camp after dinner time, Betsy got a nice spot to rest.
Mum noticed that Betsy was hurt. Her carpet was soaking wet. Dad looked underneath her; she had a hole where the tyre whipped her three weeks ago. Poor Betsy.
The campsite at Burgen was very strange. German peoplsees were dancing on the road to music made by a man in a trailer! I went for a walk with mum as dad cleared out the rubbish and took the fridge outside.
When I got back to Betsy dad had the chairs out, Dad said he had put a sticky plaster on Betsy. Time for dinner. Off into town.
We had a nice dinner, I got to say hello to an English dog, bit too young, big and boisterous. The German lady who ran the pub talked for ages, it was late when we got back to Betsy.