I missed a friendly, exuberant email from my French mechanics last night. The work was finished at 9.30pm and the car was ready to collect. I woke early and was happy to read it. I'd booked an Uber for this morning. I was downstairs, checked out and waiting when he arrived 10 minutes early. I was in jolly mood and made the mistake of beginning to chat in French. This earned me compliments on my language skills and a tricky 30 minutes of conversation. Fortunately friends began texting to check on me so I was able to excuse myself before I ran out of my limited vocabulary. 

The car was done and the team was present, smiling and waiting for praise. The charming Melissa showed me a picture of her four year old with a Ferrari, then I paid my bill (and pourboire), packed my cases and set off. Speranza seems fine, though I don't think they've nailed the air-conditioning. It's working, but it's not as cool as it used to be. That can be attended to at the annual service in July. For now, I am just delighted to be up and running. 

I stopped for breakfast in France and was very disappointed. The aire I chose was being refurbished. Nothing much was open and there was nowhere to sit. I bought a sandwich and a drink and broke the "no food in the cockpit" rule as it was raining. Soon I was on the autobahn, driving with unusual caution for me. I wanted to be comfortable that the fix had taken! Pretty soon, I was provoked by lesser cars into giving her some beans. It's amazing how much faster you can drive through Germany than any other European country. It's also amazing, though we must remember that this is a country where you can go to jail for quoting accurate government statistics annoyingly, how free it makes you feel. 

Not that it was flat out all the way. There were plenty of speed-limited sections and many roadworks. Still I made good time, singing along to "Forever Young" and "99 Red Balloons" in weather varying from sunny through overcast to gentle rain. There is a severe weather warning for tomorrow's route, but today was fine. 

It was good roads all the way until I turned off for my hotel. At one point it got quite Hansel and Gretel through darkling woods on single track roads, but soon I was in the clean-to-the-point-of-sterile German countryside wondering if those farms with 100% solar-panelled roofs grew foodstuffs or machine parts. COVID19 must have interfered with the maintenance programme because some of the country roads looked quite bad by German standards. Not UK-bad you understand; with tyre-shredding potholes and undercarriage-wrenching bumps. Just cosmetically bad. Perfectly-smooth, but the patches are visible. 

My hotel is in a little village and gives the appearance of being some local farmer's pet project. It's neat and cleanly-rustic. The lift has a dead-man's switch, which I've never seen before. You have to hold it down to keep it working. The receptionist and I didn't have enough of either language in common to discuss why that was a good idea. "Don't have a stroke on the way to your room", was all I could think as I rode it.

My plan for the morning is to breakfast early, get underway by 8am and drive straight to my parking garage in Central Prague (which foolishly I forgot to reschedule the dates for, so I've paid for an unused week). I shall  leave Speranza there while I head off to lunch with an old friend - a tax partner with one of the Big Four. Sadly my former client with whom we'd also hoped to meet up is in Ireland for the weekend so I will miss out on seeing him. 

Then I shall find my way to Babicka's flat (via the garage to pick up my bags) and settle in for my one night in Prague. On Saturday, it's onwards to Salzburg.

Tonight, having secured my e-vignettes for both Czechia's and Austria's motorways already, I shall watch Netflix and (literally) chill. My room has a view of Speranza and a soundtrack of gentle birdsong.