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The following story took place in January, 1996. My friend Norman invited my brother and me to visit him in Devon, as it was his birthday and he was holding a party at a hotel near to his home. I was staying at home with my parents at the time, as it was the end of the Christmas holiday. So we prepared to leave, first making a huge chocolate cake with on top for Norman's birthday, and then packing all of the things that we would need for the trip. We borrowed a car for the journey from our father, and picked our instruments, which we thought we might need as Norman is a very enthusiastic musician, like ourselves — my brother brought his bagpipes, his drum, his violin and his viola, and I just brought my fiddle as I only play the fiddle — and packed our sleeping bags, as it was to be a two-day party. It was a very slow journey, as it was snowing heavily, so visibility was low, and some of the roads were very twisty and windy. Eventually, however, we got there, and it was still light when we arrived. The place where the party was being held was a large modern hotel which also had a wonderful vegetarian restaurant. It also served as a seminar centre, so there were several large seminar rooms there, and it was in one of these that we gathered. Norman was already there, as were some other people, some of them playing instruments. After some nice music, we went down to the restaurant and had a delicious meal. The next morning I wanted to return to London to prepare some work for University, but my brother wanted to stay another day, so I asked the other people who were going to London in a Volkswagen minibus, one of these small nine-seaters. First we drove to Norman's to pick up some things, and it seemed to take ages hanging around there before everybody was ready to go — I think it was half past four by the time we left — and so we left quite late. Then we had to go to another house nearby to collect something for an Australian guy who was travelling with us, who lives in London, and this also took an hour or so as it was a very slow drive through some heavy snow. But eventually we got on the road to London. It seemed like just a normal journey back, if rather dark and cold and snowy. But after about thirty miles, as we were travelling homeward, some cars overtook us, as we were going quite slowly. We were lying in the back of the van in our sleeping bags, because it was so cold as the heating didn't work. Suddenly something flew towards the windscreen and it smashed. We were so shocked, there was such a loud noise. The windscreen had been broken into many tiny cubes, so the driver couldn't really see anything. So we pushed all of the little pieces of glass outside, placing a blanket inside so no glass could fall into the car. Some people driving by saw that we were in trouble, stopped and asked if we needed some help, so we asked them if they had anything to put on it, and they gave us a sheet of clear plastic, but eventually we decided not to use it as the wind would just blow it off again, and if it went into the driver's face it could be dangerous. We asked them if they knew where the next garage was and they told us. When we arrived at the garage, which was about ten miles further along the road, we were disappointed to find that it was closed, because it was Sunday evening.

So we drove all the way to London with no windscreen. It was really cold, even in our sleeping bags. We ate a lot of chocolate to try to get some energy, but it didn't really help. It was freezing. Luckily, when we got to outskirts of the city, I phoned an aunt of mine who lives near there and she told us to come straight away. She has a large garage, so we could put the bus there for one or two days until the driver could find somebody to fix the windscreen, and we went in and sat by the fire, watched videos and drank a lot of hot tea, and stayed there for the night. It was so nice to be inside in the warm after such a long cold journey!