Carless and Cross

We are currently without the use of our car. There's nothing wrong with it, we just aren't allowed to drive it at the moment because we haven't been able to register it for this year. We haven't been able to do that because our visa hasn't been extended yet. So we are waiting for someone in Sarajevo to stamp a bit of paper and send it back to Tuzla. This will, apparently, have to be done in the next 6 weeks. Because apparently it is really time consuming to stamp a piece of paper and pop it in the post.

So our perfectly serviceable car sits in the drive mocking us, as we become acquainted with the Tuzla cabs, buses and I drag the boys kicking and screaming through the rain on foot. It isn't that much of a problem, we walk to and from nursery, we shop in local shops and the cabs are frequent and cheap. But it is getting me down not being able to use the car. We can't take the dog for proper walks as there is nowhere within walkable distance to let her off the lead. I hadn't realised what an important part of my day the dog walk was. Not only did it exercise dog, but it took the brunt of the energy levels off the boys, killed an hour and a half of the afternoon and kept everyone excited with changes of scene.

I feel trapped. The weather is horrid, we are stuck in the house and all have a bad case of cabin fever. I can't do any more jigsaws, bake any more cakes, glue any more bits of paper. I'm bored of it. And so are the boys. We want to go and fight dragons in the woods, track dinosaurs, practice throwing and run down hills too fast.

Think I might go shout at some Bosnian officials later. It won't do any good but it might help me rid myself of some intense frustration.

*******   Update  *********

Just when I thought I couldn't get any grumpier... the circuit in the kitchen keeps fusing which is shorting the radio and FAR more seriously is preventing the kettle from brewing a cup of tea. And it's snowing. I am officially cross. There might be stomping involved and behaviour of which my 3 year old is embarrassed.

Car Karma

This morning, pre coffee (which may have been a key factor) I loaded the boys into the car to take them to nursery, reversed out of the drive and straight into a passing van.

The van driver (fortunately ever such a nice man) got out and inspected the impact. Not much damage done, a good old fashioned scrape down the side of the van and a right old prang to our bumper. We looked at each other and agreed it wasn't worth getting the police involved. This was a good thing, getting the police involved is a long and painful process that usually entails paying money somewhere. Van man called his boss who appeared shortly. We all looked. Stood around. Stroked our chins and sucked our teeth. The car repair place just up the road appeared. More standing around, more stroking of chins.

Then an offer. For friendship. 50 Euros and, as they say here, to je to (that is that).

Done. Handed over the cash and all off we all went on our merry way, me slightly feeling that I got off lightly.

Dave's take on the whole scenario was an example of how to receive the news that your wife has pranged the car.

He reminded me of the time when an American soldier in SFOR (the previous peace keeping force in Bosnia) driving that huge truck rolled back and hit the front of the Clio (our previous car when we were last living in Bosnia; its smallness indicating it was from the pre-children era). He gave us 100 Euro for the dent in the bonnet. We, not being in the least bit car proud, never got round to fixing it and the dent remained until we sold the car a couple of years later.

'So' said Dave 'the way I see it is that we are still 50 Euros up on the car karma front'.

Gotta love estate cars

You would not believe it. We have managed to fit in everything we need for the whole family to live in Bosnia into the back of our car. Admitedly the boys are not driving over with us so we have been able to put the back seats down (and use their flying allowence to transport most of their clothes). Even so, a full on proper heaven sent miracle.

In order to acheive this mighty feat there has been some hard bargaining. Things were classified as essential and luxury, although not without argument.D's attempts to pass off a crate of fine red wine as essential was stopped at source.

There have been some tough ones though. L's favourite toy of the moment is a push along Thomas the Tank Engine which is just to big to put in the car. He has just got old enough to really enjoy it, and I do feel guilty that we are putting it into storage. A loves his scooter more than anything else, but again, it is quite big and bulky so didn't make the cut. I guess part of the payback of the brutal culling of stuff that has been going on is that we'll have to take a trip to the shops in Bosnia and buy most of it back.

Whatever D says, I bet they don't have may favourite saucepan, now languishing in storage.