During the hour and a half by public transport it takes to get from South East London to East London to pick up your repaired darling little motor from the hospital, you will very possibly be unavoidably compelled to call another passenger a motherf**king c**cksucker when he shoves you out of the way to get the only spare seat.
And then all will become calm as your car is returned, the engine starts without the RAC performing open heart surgery on it and you traverse the same distance home by car in twenty three minutes. Duckie, I love you. We're back on the open road again and never shall I take having a car for granted.
{photo: Norbert Schoerner, UK Vogue January 2005}
6 comments:
the photo is fab! and i do love your car....as the name.
delphine
I still can't understand how they can shut everything on New Year's and Christmas. Even the trains? Outrageous. But my alternative was to walk everywhere, and if I couldn't leg it, to stay home. Cheers, BB
If I had had a car when I lived in London....... OH, the possibilities!
Now, if we ever do move back, I am going to insist on South London and refer to this post as documentary evidence that a car is a necessity. xx
great pic...xo
I'd love to meet Duckie!!!
xxx
Mia
ding! you shall...
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