It was the week after all the riots and looting in London (which sadly also spread to other parts of the country). The news was depressing, yet strangely compelling - perhaps due to its constant bombardment 24 hours a day. I didn't want to see, but I couldn't stop watching. Any small glimmer of faith I'd had in humanity had ebbed away over that weekend. Seeing the mindless damage and violence killed me a little inside.
I had to get away and be somewhere far from the constant barrage of sorrow. I'm an empathic person. What is done to others affects me deeply. It's my greatest strength and my greatest weakness. So seeing all this stuff happening really got me down.
We had the week off work and it would be all too easy to sit and watch the news all day every day. Not good for the soul. That's what it was - my soul needed some fresh air. My default place when I really need to reconnect with what's important is the sea. It doesn't matter where I am, so long as I can get close to the sea. There's something very special indeed about the sound, the movement, the smell, the oxygen charged air and the wildlife that you only find in that magical combination when you stand on the shore. Looking out to a seemingly never-ending horizon, the breakers wash away every care I have in the world and in those moments, nothing else matters. I needed that.
We headed to Norfolk, driving along the coast road from Hunstanton all the way down to Cley Marshes. After visiting all the hides, we walked up to the beach. It's a shingle beach, so you hear the sea long before you see it. There were some impressive waves breaking and a stiff sea breeze - perfect.
After a brilliant day we finally headed home, taking a more positive outlook with us. The journey home was pleasant. We stopped off at the supermarket to get some dinner and we were 1/2 a mile from home at 9pm when...
As you enter our village there are double hump-backed bridges. The bridges are narrow - single lane. I know how dangerous they can be, so I always drive over them very slowly. We had passed over the first bridge and were starting onto the second when I saw headlights coming the other way. We were already on the bridges, and there was a car immediately behind me also on the bridges, so we had right of way. In the time it took for me to first see the headlights come around the corner it was only a matter of seconds. The guy must have been going pretty fast as I didn't have time to get off the second bridge. I remember shouting 'He's not slowing down!' hitting the brakes and coming to a stop. He seemed to realise something wasn't quite right, as he braked momentarily, but then accelerated at the last moment - straight at us.
Maybe he thought he'd just go ahead anyway, maybe he was being pig-headed and thought I should get out of his way - I don't know. All I know is that when he hit us, it's a sound I'll never forget. Thankfully, he hit the wall of the bridge first, which took some of the energy out of the impact. He hit the wall with enough force to trash it. He's lucky he didn't end up in the river. If he'd hit us first I don't know if I'd be sitting here typing this now...
My first reaction was to get out of the car as quickly as possible. I had no idea how bad the damage was and I was terrified that the car might catch fire. I tumbled out onto the ground. Only at this point did the pain hit me. My neck was bruised and burned by the seat belt and oh my god, the pain in my chest was excruciating. Boobs and seat belts DON'T GO. I honestly felt around to check whether my left breast was still attached - it felt like it had been ripped off my body.
The guy who hit us was apologising profusely and saying he wasn't familiar with the road. Like that's an excuse. Surely if you don't know a road you should slow down and be more careful. He was either driving his dad's car or a work car - I'm not sure which. He was on his way home from a training course (I wonder if he's insured for business use?) and had followed a diversion because the A1 was closed. Then he'd detoured from the official diversion and was following his sat nav. I can only guess that he was looking at the sat nav instead of the road, or maybe he just wasn't looking at all.
The woman in the car behind us (who agreed to be a witness for me) called for the police and an ambulance, as I was sitting on the floor in agony, crying and a bit hysterical. While we were waiting for the police to arrive a very 'charming' man who was one of the people stuck in the traffic jam which had built up on either side of the bridges wandered over and asked if I was planning on moving my car any time soon, as it was very inconvenient. I told him in no uncertain terms exactly what I thought of him and that nothing was getting moved anywhere until the authorities had arrived. What a wanker! He didn't care that I was hurt, that I was upset, just that I was in his way. There goes my faith in humanity AGAIN...
The other driver claimed there were no warning signs, so he had no idea there was a narrow bridge ahead. Utter bullshit - he just didn't see the very clear warning signs. I went back the next day to take pictures for the insurance company.
This all happened on the Tuesday, at the beginning of our holiday week. Needless to say, the rest of our holiday was destroyed, along with my car. Wednesday was spent having the car taken away, getting a loan car sorted and visiting the doctor to get some pain killers. They told me it would hurt more the next day and boy they weren't kidding. The rest of the week was all about finding new bruises every day and various parts of me hurting to various degrees.
Even now, 3 weeks later I still have to go back to the doctor again. I've been getting sharp pains in my knees (which hit the dashboard) and they're making crunchy noises that they didn't used to make.
About a week after the crash I got the call I was dreading - the car was a write-off. Gutted doesn't even start to describe it. I loved that car. It was the first car I'd ever had that didn't have it in for me. It was reliable and hadn't had any problems. It was in really good condition too. I'm still in mourning for her.
I also found out something I didn't know. When you're involved in a crash that was absolutely not your fault and your car is destroyed, the money the insurance company will give you is nowhere near enough to buy another car. Hmmm - came as a bit of a shock to me.
So I'm out of pocket, through no fault of my own. I've had to buy another car, which has cost me personally £1000 (on top of the insurance money). The other unseen cost is my confidence, which will take a long time to find again.
Thanks for that, tosser who hit me.
The only good thing to come out of this whole nasty experience is the utter relief I feel that Mark wasn't hurt in the accident. If anything ever happened to him, if he was ever hurt, while he was a passenger in my car, I don't think I could cope with that. I'd rather be burt myself than be responsible (whether at fault or not) for hurting him.
I take driving very seriously. I'm acutely aware that I'm responsible for the lives of anyone in my car and those around me. I never take risks, I drive within the speed limit, I pay close attention. Some people may think that's boring, but I don't give a shit about what they think.
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