Today I Nearly Died

Nothing like a dramatic headline.

But today I literally came a hair's breadth from saying 'tally ho' and disappearing down a very very steep ravine into some (admittedly very gorgeous) forest.

You don't really expect a hailstorm at the top of a Cypriot mountain.  And certainly not a furiously persistent, windscreen wiper defying, 'let's make like cannon balls' type of hail.  That just goes on and on.

Of course the thing with hail (for me), is that in the UK it's so innocuous. 'Pish' we say, in the face of hail - is that the best you can do?  We know it'll pass, we know it's nothing to worry about (or at least this has always been MY way of dealing with hail - maybe this is where I've been going wrong....).

But Cypriot hail, up a mountain, in a tiny rental car, miles and miles and miles away from anything/one else is a different story.  Cypriot hail carpeting the windy, hairpin bends of the mountains is a walk in the park until the first time you put your foot on the brakes to take a corner (that they warn you to take at 20kph - so you can imagine how tight it is) and you start to skid.....  I have no idea why my head didn't treat this half inch frosting of hail in the same way it would respect a half inch of snow on the roads in the UK, but for some reason, my bad weather guidance system switched itself off when I got to Cyprus.

So there I was, sliding across the road (thankfully TOWARD the mountain, I would not be writing this if the opposite had been the case) and all of a sudden the world shrinks into that very second, that very moment.  I am heart-stoppingly aware of the car, the skid, the mountain, the road and of course - my inability to do anything other than pray.

And did I pray.  Because it didn't end with that skid.  Every time the road (and we're talking mountains here) went uphill, the car would skid and misbehave.  I would try and persevere in second gear but kept having to come back down into first.  And this gear changing was accompanied by:

'Please God, let this hail stop now.  Please.  Let it stop.  Let it stop.  I'm really scared now.  Please let it stop.'.  This was said with a lot of heart and the occasional swear word.  But I was pretty single-minded about what it was that I wanted.

And it stopped.

And then (chancing my arm a bit but with equal zeal):

'Just some rain, lots and lots of rain, please, to wash all this hail away and melt it forever. I would be incredibly happy for some torrentially bonkers rain.  Very happy. Or some sun.  Some lovely sun.  Or just for the temperature to rise a couple of degrees very suddenly.  Please God, please just keep me safe until I get home.  Please keep me safe.  Please keep me safe'.

Then I kept having flashbacks to my friend, Janine, and her ever-cautious parents warning about snow shovels and drinks and sandwiches and wondering if I had had a moment of precognisance because for the first time in many many ...well... years I suppose, I'd organised myself to the degree that I had a third of a bottle of water with me, 2 mandarins and my kagool.  Proper preparation for treacherous weather, by any standards, I'm sure you'll agree.

I vowed that if getting the next 40 kilometres home would mean doing it in first gear - then that's what I would do.  (Anyone who knows me knows that things must have been bad if I was happy to be in first gear for longer than 0.2 seconds).

On I went, 10 kph, praying non stop when all of a sudden I noticed that the road was not quite so white, the hail seemed to be getting more shallow.  I wasn't crunching down on it any longer, it was becoming more and more and more...... like...... RAIN underfoot (well undertyre).  HALLELUJAH!  I didn't stop holding my breath though, in case it was just a hail type trick and that I'd turn another corner and it would be back to its slippy slidey best....

But no.  The hail was gone, the roads were beautifully and gloriously and simply WET.    Hurray!!!!

And so I pelted it down the mountain-side (pelted being a relative term - I made it into third gear) and enjoyed every single drop of rain that came down.  Every drop.

There have been very few times in my life when I have been truly terrified.  This was one of them.  And whether you believe in God (and the word itself evokes enough debate, never mind the concept) or not, it's very comforting to have something to DO when you're stuck up there, on the top of a mountain in the hail miles away from anything and anybody.

I have decided (incidentally) that I need to spend the remainder of my time in Cyprus getting more of a feel for the area that my clients will be staying in.  This area is on a beautiful hill (note - HILL) with magnificent views of the National Park, the coast and the mountains.  Looking at them (the mountains) will do from now on.

PS.  I dedicate this blog to God, who did a very neat job of keeping me safe, for which I'm very grateful.  I dedicate everything else to you too, in fact.  But this blog really does have your name on it.  Thank you.