Last year I was living in London and this girl was living in Paris.

She was in London for the weekend - and we both needed to go to Paris on Sunday morning. The trains and planes were sold out! So we decided to drive.

We go out at night, part ways, and agree to meet at 6am in her lobby.

I wake up at 5.30 and have a frantic phone call from her asking where the hell I am?

I try to call her. No response.

Go to her hotel, she's gone.

Don't know what to do - get in the car.

Suddenly she calls - where the hell am I?

Uh...where the hell are you?

I'm at Waterloo - trying to get a train - why did you oversleep?

Uh..I didn't oversleep, it's 5.55.

No, it's 6.55.

Uh...London's an hour behind Paris.

$#%!.

So, I go to Waterloo, and pick her up.

We're on our merry way to Dover, finally past Greenwich and trolling along to the Motorway and she freaks out and wonders if she remembered to take her passport.

I laugh at her and say, "wouldn't that be hilarious?"

And then my heart stops....my passport, travel wallet, etc.: in the hotel safe in the City. Shite.

Back we go.

We now have 1h05 to make the departure from Dover...a drive that is easily 1.5 hrs, and you're supposed to be there 45 minutes prior.

We made it - by the Grace of God - and my setting a land speed record in this poor A4.