Day 2 – Prague – written on road to towards Munich.

Mondeo is now looking a lot less worse for wear, not helped when the Calibra had an ABS fit and Mark slammed it into the back of the Mondeo. The rear bumper now has a big crack in it with gaffer tape to hold it, if it is possible on that car. The roads into Prague didn’t inspire confidence. The lack of street lamps was the least of our worries, some places literal had bare bases of the roads exposed. It felt a lot like we were heading into the middle of nowhere, where the economy had long gone. With Ross behind the wheel of the Mondeo, it was something you wouldn’t be able sleep through. Which is exactly what I managed to do. For some reason on this trip, I’ve been sleeping at every available moment.
As for the cars, the Calibra is working fine, apart from the occasional hiccup with the ABS. The Mondeo is a different matter. It’s becoming such a state, that on the roads into Prague, the ones which felt like they had been laid when Jesus walked the earth, the Mondeo fitted straight in. The brakes don’t stop the car; they more shake it until eventually it loses speed. The accelerator doesn’t actually make the car go any faster, more just makes it louder, and only to the people inside the car. 2 of the windows don’t work, the gearbox feels like it’s full of honey, the steering is about as tight as a girl after Craig has finished with her and the heater isn’t working. On the bright side, she starts first time everytime, so I suppose it’s not that bad. You know, ignoring all of the broken things, which is more or less the entire car; it’s getting it us through countries.
I can’t really remember much about day 2 of Rally Europe for a couple of reasons. One was because I’ve slept through it, and the other is because in the process of getting to know the lads better, I may have got very drunk. That night was absolutely fantastic though, beginning to feel like one of them, going out and generally being young, something I’ve waited a long time for.
Without a shadow of a doubt, this is the best thing I’ve done in my life. Meeting 7 welsh mentals, prating around in worthless motors, not knowing if they are going to make it, blasting through countries to get drunk in yet another town, another country.