Page 2 of 3

Some drippy girl with black roots muttered 'I've been here for 2 hours',

Advising her she will be there the whole night if she didn't move her backside, I dragged my exhausted NF on to keep her moving before she died.

Have you ever tried to cross Hangar Lane on foot and use flooded subways? Well don't, especially if you have new suede mules on.

When the lightning was really bad, we just cuddled each other, hid in shops and ran in between claps of thunder.

I thought because we were going through this shitting journey from hell that I should phone my mum up who was smugly in her smug house drinking her smug coffee, smugly wearing her dry knickers because she hadn't waded through raw sewage.

"Mum, don't know where we are, my pants are wet, I'm wet and my shoes are ruined. Do you speak the language of Peru?"
"Oh you'll be OK love, and what are you doing with someone from Peru?"
"Mum, we could die or get struck by lightening!"
"Oh don't be silly, that doesn't happen these days."

As we passed each bus stop, I became more bitter and venomous in my approach to the people waiting.

"Waiting for a bus?" I would ask, with the people staring back at the vagrant with a dripping wet skirt and an equally nearly dead looking foreign national beside her.

As the passengers nodded, I would sneer 'You've got no chance we have been walking since the hospital!'

Taking immense comfort from their horrified glances, I would limp off, dragging MNF behind me, who was still whimpering 'Samantha, tired, South Harrow'.

No chance of her improving her English with me, though I do suspect she became fluent in saying swear words.

On one of our rest breaks, I was just wringing out my skirt, whilst flashing my once white knickers (now grainy black).

I had decided to break the cardinal sin and hitch a ride, (sorry dad, if you're reading this).

MNF managed to look like a homeless person and managed to get a car with a lovely couple in to stop.

There's more...