5:34 pm, October 15, 2012
ANOTHER day, another few hundred miles clocked up in our cabin of leather and wood veneer.
This was perhaps the most important day of all, though: seeing us make the journey to hand over our charity shoeboxes.
Due to a slight change of plan we did have to navigate our six-car convoy around some particularly tiny Barcelona streets – following directions that were mostly in Spanish – but we’re not half glad we did.
Visiting the charity we’d chosen – the Església de Crist church just north of Barcelona – was a humbling and perhaps even emotional experience: something we hadn’t quite prepared for.
We might have driven nearly 1000 miles to hand over our donations – something the representatives of the church almost couldn’t believe – but our shoeboxes almost didn’t feel enough.
There we were – a group of fairly well off, fully employed individuals turning up in six separate cars, and all we had to offer were some pound shop toothbrushes and second-hand clothes.
Thankfully it was all very well received, but I still felt a bit guilty. I’ll be personally making sure the CD team squeezes a whole lot more in next year.
Heading out of Spain with the sat nav barking directions, we agreed to let the Evans Halshaw chaps tag along behind us in their Astra to save them faffing around with a map.
That plan was all going swimmingly, right up until a French policeman decided to slap us about a bit with his ego.
‘Je suis Anglais’, Batch said to him politely as he gestured us to stop. What we received back – complete with dramatic arm movements – was something along the lines of ‘Yes, and I’m French: why not try learning my language’.
Thankfully, the two officers that opened the boot and rifled through Batch’s silk underwear collection were better natured, but it still left a bitter taste in our mouths.
So, two lessons learned today: be more charitable, and learn French. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.
