Hambuggered!

I'm afraid it was bound to happen - I've made mincemeat of my hamburger.

Nothing dramatic, and my own stupid fault unfortunately. A car stopped suddenly, the one in front of me stopped, and I did - but only after I had gently coalesced the front of my car with the back of hers. It wasn't a high speed collision - I was driving too close, and the road was polished with use, so my tyres didn't grip as much as I had expected.

Luckily we were just outside a hospital - the one of AIDS fame where Sarkozy's previous wife was so helpful in getting the Bulgarian and Palestinian medics freed. Had treatment been needed, it would have been very convenient, but there was no blood let.

We both pulled to the side of the road, I wandered around in a daze for a while, not knowing what to do, and eventually I went to the woman, Wanisa, whose car I had damaged to check she was OK. Fortunately she spoke very good English, and all the concerned bystanders just wanted to make sure we weren't hurt. Some waited around for the police to arrive which they did in due course, but everything was remarkably calm. It turned out that Wanisa knew me, by reputation, not sight. She was the Director of Training for one of the banks which sends students to my courses, Wahda. I've often thought that Libya is like a very large village - everyone I meet knows someone who knows me, even in the middle of nowhere.

I rang Mohamed and Rajab, and they turned up at the same time as the police, so between us all we sorted out the legal details. Everything was in order; the police wanted to know if I wanted to make a complaint about anyone (hardly - I was in the wrong!), and that was that. Wanisa and I exchanged phone numbers, but she said she would probably just sort out her car herself; I needn't worry about anything.

M & R rang a cousin who arranged for a couple of people to look at the car, and they chose the better price for me - Rajab masqueraded as the owner in order to get a Libyan quote, and selected a Libyan garage over an Egyptian one! After another phone call to the uncle of the cousin, a tow rope arrived, and I was taken away from the scene of the crime.

The car is now in the garage being repaired.

They told me that Wanisa is from a good family, so I won't hear any more from her. She was cross that the person who had caused her to brake had 'run off', and she didn't hold me responsible!

I don't know the cost yet, but it'll be less than the value of the car, so that's a relief - I'd hate to lose my trusty wheels after all we've been through together.

As I was wrapping up my day today, I dropped in to see Salem, the Director, and who should be on the phone to him - Wanisa! So she saved me the job of telling my sorry tale myself.