This is a seize and an arrest!...

It is moments like these when you remember why you left a cuntry. (Not a spelling mistake).

As much as I love England, and boast of it's many qualities - there is something fundamentally retarded about being able to purchase a car, but not being able to insure it.

I will explain...

Karlos and I purchased a car in the UK, primarily because it was a quarter of the price to rent a car, and we would have the option of selling it again before we left. We gave the address of my best friend, and the car dealer happily, and easily, drew up the ownership papers for us.

The next day we tried to insure the car, but - despite me being an engish citizen, and us both having international driving permits - no one would insure us because we are not residents, i.e. do not have a permenant address in the UK, and do not have a british drivers licence. But I have grandparents, aunties, uncles, cousins, friends, etc etc, all who live here and I can use as an abode. I am a british citizen, with a New Zealand driver's licence, and an international driving permit that is recognised in the UK. I am also an AA member in New Zealand (talking to AA in the UK). But none of that was good enough.

So - because car insurance is the law in the with no exceptions - we were in a catch 22. We own a car that we cannot drive, legally. So what did we do? We stuck a proverbial middle finger up to the authorities and drove anyway. We would drive with extreme caution to avoid any potential accidents, and, well - we'd take the chance.

So we drove for one and a half months with no troubles. We drove to France, Belgium, Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, all over England, Ireland, and Scotland... before trouble eventuaslly caught up with us in Yorkshire, northeast England...

*

The police car pulled in front of our car, after following us for several miles. He turned on his "follow me" sign. "Shit," we both agreed.

"Hello sir," the lovely policeman said to Karlos. "Nothing wrong with your driving there, but one of our roadside cameras has scanned your licence plate, and it doesn't show you having insurance in our database."

"Ummm... we don't." Karlos replied honestly.

"Oh, I see," the policeman continued, "you do know it's the law to have car insurance?"

"We're from New Zealand," Karlos replied, with the usual, desperate plea of 'please let us off we're ignorant tourists.'

"Yes, but it is the law here, and you shouldn't have been driving without it. You're breaking the law."

We knew we were, we couldn't argue. Karlos explained how we had tried to get insurance, but no one would cover us - and the policeman asked him to come sit in the back of his car whilst he looked into the matter further. Meanwhile, I sat on the side of the motorway in our car - wondering what on earth was going on... for about half an hour.

Eventually, Karlos and the policeman came back to me, to explain that - despite the officer doing everything he could to help us, even calling insurance companies on our behalf, and getting the same "no chance" response that we did - the car was being seized and Karlos was under arrest. I burst into tears at being so utterly p*ssed off with "stupid bloody english rules that make no sense."

The policemen explained that Karlos would likely only get a caution, but he was still obliged to take him into the station. Another policeman arrived shortly afterwards, to drop off a third policeman - who then drove me to my aunty's house nearby, before taking our car off to the compound. To get the car back - we would need to pay a 150 quid fine, and prove we now have the car insured. Impossible, given that was the reason why we were in this predicament in the first place. The car was basically being taken away from us - british residents in a similar situation would have recieved a 500 quid fine. We could not be treated in the same way, as we could easily leave the country without paying our fine (which of course we would have). So it was bye bye car.

The policeman was just doing his job. He was a nice man, who helped us all he could and sympathised for us. It wasn't his fault.

Karlos spent an hour or two at the police station, inside a little cell and even had to give DNA samples! Eventually though, he was dropped off at my aunty's - with a caution and no further fines, as promised. And we spent a bit of time trying once again to insure the car, even my uncle tried to insure it for us - but to no avail.

In the end we decided - sod it. The car cost us 600 quid. What we saved on insurance in the first place, we lost buy loosing the car - so technically we broke even. And at least we now didn't have to spend the last week of our trip cleaning the car, listing the car and trying to sell it. We were free birds - thankfully not jail birds - and the cost to get to London by train was cheaper than the cost petrol would have been, anyway. So we were happy to conclude it was the best thing all round.

Perhaps it was devine intervention... if Karlos had been involved in a car accident, without insurance - he would certainly have faced jail-time.

We don't know what has become of the car. After a fortnight it would have been sold, or scrapped. I hope it was sold - the frost plug was about to burst any day... so I hope it gave the system some grief, by selling a faulty car to someone who demands recompense!

We really had the last laugh. ;-)

And my aunty and uncle restored my love for england - reminding me that her people, beyond all the illegal immigrants, football hooligans, and chavs... really are a wonderful lot.





Peace and love,

~ Comet xo