Embarrassing Roof Rack

I went through a very awkward stage, as many children do, of being highly embarrassed with the car my father drove, especially when we were either being dropped off or fetched from boarding school.  I was unable to see any other car that looked remotely like ours, a small, maroon, mud-caked car with a heavily laden roof rack.  I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me, so that I didn't have to endure all the stares.  At that point in time, I was unaware that beyond themselves, most people didn't really care a continental!  For me it was painful to have to carry my ancient, old suitcase up the stairs and into the dormitory, together with my rolled up bundle of blankets.

When I think of it now, I take my hat off to my parents who gallantly ploughed their way through corrugated dirt roads, slipping and sliding and getting stuck when it rained, or alternately having everything covered in thick, brown dust  during winter.  It was a real mission to get us to and from school and took on average four to five hours of difficult driving.

Once while coming to pick us up from school, a flock of Guinea fowl flew over the top of their car. Only when they arrived at their destination, and after everyone who passed them, seemed to be laughing and pointing in their direction, did they discover that one of the birds had misjudged it's flight path, and was now dead and dangling by its neck from the side of the roof rack.

We did however, have a mishap with the roof rack which was not amusing at all.  It happened when we stopped to buy something from a shop in the town where our school was, and left the car unattended.  On our return, not only all the suitcases, but also the roof rack had disappeared without a trace.  Apart from losing everything we needed for school, I also lost Rosemary,the only doll I every possessed.  She was smartly dressed in skirt, jersey, hat and knickers knitted for her by my grandmother.   This was a real loss as she was my security doll, lying comfortingly on my pillow.  The theft of the suitcases was also a very big thing for my parents to deal with because I overheard my father say to my mother "Well, I suppose this means, I'll have to sell another cow at the sale yard next week."