I’ve moved around a lot in my time. I’ve lived on both coasts of the U.S., as well as the north, south and middle. I’ve lived in Canada. I’ve lived in Britain. I live in Australia. One of the things that I’ve learned is that with every move there’s a period of time in which you’ve got to take the Blanche DuBois approach to life. Especially with the more recent trans-Atlantic moves, sometimes you have to just swallow your pride and take help when and where it’s offered. We’ve been lucky here in Oz. Since Dr. O’C grew up here there are friends and family that helped us out with finding a place to live, getting on to the net, using the phone, etc.

We also had a pleasant surprise. Arizaphale, who we only knew from the blogosphere, offered us the use of her parents’ car for a couple of months so we could shift the expense of a new car onto the back burner. Her parents spend half the year here in Adelaide and half the year in Britain. They’re back in Blighty for the English “summer”, so their car was just sitting in the driveway. There was a bit of hesitation on their part, not knowing us, but ultimately we were offered the loan of their car.

Now, some of you may know that I am not a fan of cars these days. Primarily because they just tend to be more hassle than they’re worth. Give me two wheels and a chain. One of the best things about living in Oxford was that I rarely had need of a car. I basically cycled everywhere. I realized quickly after moving to Adelaide that my lifestyle was going to change a bit. Adelaide, like a lot of American cities, sprawls for miles and miles. Public transport is OK, it can get me to work for example, but doesn’t get me everywhere I want to go. There are some brave souls that cycle around, but I’m used to the flat cycle paths of the south of England, not the hills and highways of the southern suburbs. Like it or not, I am going to be doing a lot more driving.

Needless to say, I was grateful for Arizaphale’s loan and it has been a god send. It’s given us the freedom to travel outside the bounds of Adelaide’s Metro service – from the beach to the hills, from the city to the bush. It’s been fantastic and a real weight off my mind. Until yesterday when the door bell rang.

It was a guy who had been doing some work across the street and I knew what had happened as soon as he said, “Is that your car our front?” I knew without even walking down to look at the car. This fellow, in his ute I might add, has backed to quickly out of the driveway without looking and smashed into Arizaphale’s parents car. For a while he tried to be hickery dickery about it, saying it shouldn’t have been parked where it was parked la de da de da. But he ultimately drove away with the admission that he had made a mistake.

Thing is, that doesn’t make me feel any better. Not only because the damage severe enough that we are now temporarily back at the mercy of Adelaide Metro. The bigger issues is that the car was in my custody and got smashed up, whether or not I’m at fault is irrelevant. All of Arizaphale’s folks’ fears have come to fruition on my watch. I’ve smashed up the kindness of strangers.

* I had originally planned to post a photo of the car, but it was a bit too depressing. So, you get Stanley.

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