Murphy’s law is an adage or epigram that is typically stated as: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.

I am having a series of unfortunate events and it seems as if I have landed smack dab in the middle of Murphy and his black comedy.

Road Trip, European Vacation or Planes Trains and Automobiles comes to mind, starring none other than yours truly and her other half…

We were poised to close up our daughter’s apartment ( I had been staying there for a month, she was long gone to New York) and were to drive her car back home, approximately 1200 kilometers away. Seems easy enough and even kind of enjoyable…

The first issue is that she had too much furniture and most of it did not sell on Craigslist as expected. So, after we donated a bunch to thrift stores, the husband thinks we’ll have the room if we just picked up a friend’s truck that had a box big enough for her belongings. Then we can load up the car onto a trailer (we don’t have one) and the truck can pull it all. My husband is a vehicle junkie and this is totally believable if you know him.

While en route to the ferry ( because of course this truck is on an island) our car breaks down.

Not driveable.

We ditch it at a gas station and have to hitch a ride from a very nice couple (we must have looked desperate) or rather they recognized the signs of marital discord such as gritted teeth and simmering frustration. They dropped us off and of course, the ferry is late.

However, the friend is going to meet us on the other side and hand us the keys so we can make it back to load the furniture and finish the clean-up before the walk-through with the land lady at noon the next day.

We get the truck and just before we head back onto the ferry, the friend mentions that the U-joint is troublesome and to be careful while driving.

2 hours later, we are heading back to the apartment, when the truck shows obvious signs of distress and we wonder how we are going to make it 2 kilometers let alone 1200.

It’s pretty late so we cross our fingers and somehow make it back to her place. So now the situation is…

1. Unusable car-sitting in an empty gas station parking lot miles from her apartment.
2. Unusable truck sitting in her parking lot.
3. Furniture that MUST be out of apartment by noon
4. Apartment that must be fully CLEANED by noon.

We drop onto her 2 sofas and fall asleep.

Determined to be out of her place by noon, we shove everything into the box and cab of the truck, including 2 sofas, microwave oven, TV and bags of clothing and miscellaneous.

I complete the cleaning while he phones around to find somewhere to get the truck fixed. Trouble is…it’s Sunday and no one works on Sundays here. More grumbling from him.

We wait for the land lady to show up to do the final walk-through and she doesn’t show at designated time. I find out that she forgot and went on holidays.

I leave that problem in the hands of my daughter and I throw the keys through the mail slot and we drive very carefully to a hotel located close to an auto repair shop. We find a hotel right across the street from a shop. It’s practically the cost of an Antarctic cruise, but since it’s the only one around and not wanting to tempt fate, the plan is now to sleep here, beg to get the truck fixed in the morning, rent a car hauler, and go fetch the sick and dying car, load it up and head out for home.

The next morning we manage to get it fixed and head over to the trailer rental.

Of course, they don’t have any available. All rented out in the greater Vancouver area. We had one rented for the previous day, but had to cancel due to the truck issue and now there are none left.

“I’ll just buy one!” my husband manages to spit out between clenched teeth as I try frantically to search the internet for available vendors. There is one-150km away and they have one left but they close at 5:00 pm.

Of course they do.

However, we still have the issue of the broken- down car.

“We’ll have to call the AMA, and get them to tow it to the vendor,”

At this point I start fantasizing about using my arms and flapping myself those 1200 km  and taking me away from this mess.

But we arrive at the car and now sit waiting for the Roadside assistance to rescue us from this hell and tow our car in enough time to maybe purchase a trailer so we can get home the next day.

Oh did I mention that it’s 35 degrees outside?

Did I mention that this truck has no air-conditioning? We will be driving 1200km in the blazing heat. Awesome.

• What will happen?
• Will the tow truck arrive on time?
• Will he arrive at all?
• Will we get flat tires on the way?
• Will we arrive to buy the trailer just after the doors close?
• Will we complete this road trip from hell together?

 

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion on my next post.