As many of you know I have been to some obscure and wonderful places and travelled along some pretty dangerous roads in my time. One of them even featured in first ever episode of The World's Most Dangerous Roads (Albania). I have travelled in West Africa on rough tracks and bounced across the sand dunes of the Sahara in a Toyota Land Cruiser. And yet it was in a more sedate part of Europe where I found myself on a journey that was truly terrifying.

You might recall the article I wrote yesterday about Immigration and Common Sense?

In the article I started with a reference to what an old friend of mine said about her desire to leave England after more than 20 years, so she can return to her nowhere town in the middle of Poland. Well, I was on this journey with her and her dad.

Let me set the scene for you. It was Summer 2003 and we had just hosted a group of ten or so English people who were helping us to run some children's summer camps and other activities in a small town 2 hours south of Warsaw. For the duration of their visit we had hired a crappy old Ford Transit minibus because the organisers were cheap! The minibus was not in great shape anyway and during their stay we had a tyre blowout, which fortunately did not result in a catastrophe. Dave, one of the English visitors, was the main driver for the duration of the visit and his experience was crucial in that incident. Another major issue was that the minibus had a tendency to drift to the right, which was almost certainly related to issues with wheel alignment, worn steering components, or uneven tire pressure. 

I am no mechanic so don't ask me. The point is that the vehicle was unfit for purpose and shouldn't have been available.

So, at the end of the trip, all of the English (except me of course) had to return to Warsaw for their flight home. Dave once again drove everybody there and I went along for the ride with both my friend and her dad. The head of the Polish side of things had told her dad that he could go and bring the minibus back and drop it off in Czestochowa, another half an hour or so south of where we were living, when we were done. My friend's dad, while he had a licence, had not driven for 30 years, but he was put under a lot of pressure and was that kind of nice guy who always wants to help and finds it difficult to say no.

And so we got to Warsaw and dropped everybody off and then started the journey back. At first the signs of lack of confidence was evident in crunching gear changes and late braking, but as my friend's dad became more familiar with the beast things settled down until we hit the highway!

For most of the journey we had to travel along the A1 (E75) and it was before any of the post-EU reconstruction work. Lanes were narrow and rutted by large trucks despite it being asphalt and edges were crumbling. These collapsed areas resulted in about 90% of the road edges having a sheer drop of about a foot (30cm) before leveling off, but it would be enough to make the minibus enter into a catastrophic roll. All along the edges, at very regular intervals, temporary warning bollards had been placed like this one.

It was a hot day anyway, but I can still see my friend's poor dad, soaked with sweat and a face of agonised concentration as he fought the beast with every sing rotation of the wheels. I couldn't tell you how many of those bollards her flattened and the vehicle kept pulling to the right, nor how many times he nearly lost the front right wheel which would have led to almost certain disaster. My friend was literally screaming at him (and I totally buy that), but despite feeling the same levels of terror I recognised that screaming at him will only make things worse. So I suppressed my own feelings and asked my friend to calm down while at the same time trying my best to encourage her dad. He tried to slow down, to give him a better sense of control, but that only irked all the drivers behind him and they too added to the pressure. I think, watching him, what was happening was that he was naturally trying to let the Beast straighten itself up - which it should have done - but every time he even took the slightest bit of pressure of the steering wheel it pulled again... and that meant us being so close to the edge that we almost fell of the road.

Finally, about 20km (12 miles) from our home town (not Czestochowa) we pulled off the highway onto a smaller road, but even that was fraught with danger as he had to navigate across the lanes on our side of the road and then get across two lanes of oncoming traffic. The beast stumbled as the gears fought him for control and while we didn't exactly bunny-hop it was a far from smooth right turn. I can still the trucks on the approaching side of the road coming towards us. 

Once we were on the quieter roads it wasn't so bad, as he was able to slow down and this reduced that ongoing pull to the right that we had been experiencing. We drove straight the flat of the guy who was in charge of the Polish side of things. He greeted us warmly and invited us into his flat and I think it was then that I looked at my friend fully. She was literally grey! I have never seen such a dramatic decolourisation of a person before (I did once see somebody go as white as a sheet, but that is a different story for another day and that was more down to a sudden shock rather than an ongoing ordeal which lasted about three hours).

The next bit was a bit of a blur but I do remember the guy saying to my friend's dad that he's had a break so he can now deliver it back to Czestochowa. My friend and I both literally screamed "NO!!!" and in the end the local leader ended up taking the minibus back, and I hope it was scrapped after that.

Now that was, out of all of my life's experiences, one of the most terrifying.

As always stay safe and well my friends.