We paused today when our GPS would not give us the path to Switzerland. We double parked and tried to ring the rental company. We cursed and there were elements of frustrated swearing. We got no where on the phone and the girls were advocating for a trip back to a previous location, but Iain was all for going forward. After a frustrating 20 minutes on hold at Hertz, we set off. Cathy had become quieter and quieter "Do you suppose it has something to do with which country you are in...?"
Eerrrrmmmmmm......... yes. As we got closer to the Swiss border, suddenly the GPS sprang into action and we were away again. It is just as well we didn't get through to Hertz as we were all muttering and ready for the serve of all serves for a European GPS that only works in Italy.
THEN....... as we approached the border, the cars slowed and armed soldiers were stopping cars. I was actually packing because we had no passports and here we were trying to cross a border into another country. I think my blood pressure went through the roof as we pulled over and the armed soldier stepped up to the car. Did I look guilty? Did I look like an international people smuggler? (does it count when you smuggle yourself across the border?)
We were waved off to the side, where we were asked to front up with yet another tax of Euro 30. I chucked Euro 20 over the seat and tried to look relaxed and international traveller-ish. (or traveller-esq in Europe) I was so nervous that I forgot to take photos! We do, however, have the sticker, firmly attached to the front of our van!
Eerrrrmmmmmm......... yes. As we got closer to the Swiss border, suddenly the GPS sprang into action and we were away again. It is just as well we didn't get through to Hertz as we were all muttering and ready for the serve of all serves for a European GPS that only works in Italy.
THEN....... as we approached the border, the cars slowed and armed soldiers were stopping cars. I was actually packing because we had no passports and here we were trying to cross a border into another country. I think my blood pressure went through the roof as we pulled over and the armed soldier stepped up to the car. Did I look guilty? Did I look like an international people smuggler? (does it count when you smuggle yourself across the border?)
We were waved off to the side, where we were asked to front up with yet another tax of Euro 30. I chucked Euro 20 over the seat and tried to look relaxed and international traveller-ish. (or traveller-esq in Europe) I was so nervous that I forgot to take photos! We do, however, have the sticker, firmly attached to the front of our van!
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