The motorway was dreadful, "Slow for 6 miles" read the sign. I decided to take an early exit, and, as the lights turned green at the top of the slip road, pressed down on the throttle. What followed was the loudest snapping sound ever. The car wouldn't budge. Fellow motorists honked horns, shouted, gesticulated and implied that my parents weren't married when I was conceived. Their initial anger transformed into amusement as I took the warning triangle from the boot and placed it in the road.
I've always wanted an excuse to use it, unfortunately this wasn't an excuse. After that I stood on a traffic island for an hour being ignored by police cars, waiting for the RAC, singing a tune I couldn't get out of my head and imagining what I'd be doing if the car hadn't broken down.
I decided the best bet to go with Chew Lips 'Salt Air' would be a Muscadet. Grown near the ocean and great with seafood. Also, over the past ten years, it has transformed from being one of the most unreliable names in French wine to being one of the most consistent.
To eat with it? After much deliberation I settled on Moules Frites. My thinking was to combine the quintessential elements of being 'seaside' on both sides of the Channel.
Well, the car's still gubbed, but tonight's the night. Moules frites, muscadet and Chew Lips. Can't wait, but whether it goes or not, I'm sure it'll be better than standing on a traffic island.
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