My Own Euro Crisis.

I go to see good mice friends in Buxton on my trusty but not rusty Yamaha SZR660, carefully putting my waterproofs, wallet and loose change in my backpack. I go onto reserve 5 miles from home then realise I’ve left my pack. No problem, I’ll go back today and collect it. Mothermouse goes to town and I realise I have no money to buy petrol to get to Buxton to collect my wallet. After much searchification of old trousers etc I find £2 and borrow £3 from next-door-but-one. After a pleasant ride to Buxton I retrieve my wallet and don the waterproofs as there’s a slight shower. Two minutes into my return journey the sky goes black and the heavens open. If I close my visor it mists up and if I open it rain gets on the inside as well as the outside. I peer into the darkness through two layers of droplets and mist. This is unhelpful at 50mph in traffic. Now I know how Angela Merkel feels.