I did it! I managed to drive down the hill, to the store and back again. I was alone on the way down, moral support from a friend on the way back. I forgot to ask her for her anxiety level, which I appreciate was raised ever so slightly when I stalled going up, and when I had said (albeit foolishly), 'I'm glad we haven't met anyone coming down'. True to form, around the corner awaited a fearsome four-by-four spanning the whole width of the road. I used a cheeky ploy, of avoiding eye contact and just continuing to creep forward, which fortunately worked, and he reversed out of the way.
While I was waiting for brave friend 'downtown', locals must have thought me rather strange as I spent longer than was normal watching the traffic lights at the junction I was shortly going to have to negotiate a left turn at. I got it sussed and everything went just fine. The best bit was being able to buy absolutely anything I wanted in the shop. I came back loaded with tins, potatoes all the booty I hadn't been able to buy before.
There is one complaint though, those paper carrier bags, how do you Americans cope? There were five bags in my collection today. One handle tore before I got the stuff into the car, and another on the way from the car to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, I dragged one of the bags by its remaining handle, which also promptly tore. I felt a bit grumpy, although this was quickly dispelled by the welcoming fullness of the fridge. I feel proud every time I open the door.
I have watched quite a lot of American films, and the shopping is always brought home in bags without handles, which myself and others had commented was odd. Now I know why.
They have all dropped off before they get to the front door.
While I was waiting for brave friend 'downtown', locals must have thought me rather strange as I spent longer than was normal watching the traffic lights at the junction I was shortly going to have to negotiate a left turn at. I got it sussed and everything went just fine. The best bit was being able to buy absolutely anything I wanted in the shop. I came back loaded with tins, potatoes all the booty I hadn't been able to buy before.
There is one complaint though, those paper carrier bags, how do you Americans cope? There were five bags in my collection today. One handle tore before I got the stuff into the car, and another on the way from the car to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, I dragged one of the bags by its remaining handle, which also promptly tore. I felt a bit grumpy, although this was quickly dispelled by the welcoming fullness of the fridge. I feel proud every time I open the door.
I have watched quite a lot of American films, and the shopping is always brought home in bags without handles, which myself and others had commented was odd. Now I know why.
They have all dropped off before they get to the front door.
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