Driving Miss Daisy

When I just THINK of driving in South Africa, with a can of diet coke, a cigarette and talking on my cell phone, listening to the radio...bloody hell, if you could see me now now, hands at ten past two,listening intently to Sat Nav..like a real granny. Darling Simon goes mad at people driving in the middle lane, but believe me, it is the safest place to be when you don't know which lane to be in. Sat Nav Bitch gave up the ghost today, so my planned outing to the wee village of Toft had to be cancelled. I looked at google maps and quickly realised that there was no way I would find this place on my own. She wasn't so great anyway, so I am getting a new one. Also, because the Poms are quite mad, I can't get petrol. It is like Zimbabwe here at the minute...petrol stations closed, queues up the wazoo...just because there may be a drivers strike, which hasn't happened yet, but everyone is in a big panic, filling up their cars. £50 worth of petrol has so far lasted us at least a month. I would have put petrol in last week before the panic, but being a Saffa, I don't actually know HOW to put petrol in. Now I have to wait either until the panic is over, or make The Hubby queue. This is not a good time to learn. People are filling jerry cans with petrol, which has set off a huge health and safety issue, and one woman has already set herself on fire pouring petrol from one container to another. The reason I was going to Toft? There is a Saffa Shop there and I am going to find someone and MAKE them be my friend. I am giving up on The Poms. They are like a pack of wolves, they sense I am not one of them.