Last weekend I went home for the District Rotary Conference, which quite a few Rotaractors were going to. Since it was in the town next to where my parents live, it makes it nice and cheap for me. I took Friday afternoon off work to drive down, although I stopped off on the way (although it's in the wrong direction) at the hospital to have my back x-rayed. Slow was not the word for them, as I spent the best part of an hour there and there were only three people in front of me. By the time I got home it was four hours after I left, and it's only a two hour drive (without a stop).

I had planned to have an early night and David Tennant and Catherine Tate were on Jonathan Ross (recorded on a Tuesday!). I heard part of an interview with them on Radio 2 which didn't tell me anything new, but Jonathan Ross's interviews are always funny, and this one was too. Mostly at the expense of Catherine Tate.

I got up stupidly early to get there in time for the first session to start. Sunday I had to get two buses, but the first session didn't start till later, so I had more of a lie-in. There wasn't quite as much of an incentive to go when I was having breakfast at 9am, there was some snow on the grass (not enough to cover it completely), my parents were in bed and the cat was asleep on my bed. The snow had all melted not long later, at least.

For lunch I had a chicken roast (without the yorkshire pudding, mash or gravy, which meant the waitress gave me a funny look). There wasn't enough roast potato in it though. It kept snowing on and off so I worried a bit about driving back in it. Turns out, I didn't need to worry about that at all.

Dad had mentioned on Saturday that he thought the car smelt of petrol. I had filled it up on the way back on Friday since I thought it better to do in the warm than in the snow. It's 3p cheaper at home, so I always fill it up there, even if it only needs a bit. I had noticed it smelling of petrol before, but I have very vivid memories of the car stinking of petrol after dad filled it up in the summer and I sat in the car with the windows down. And I did think the petrol had gone down more than I thought, but I just put it down to me not taking enough notice of the gauge, and the gauge being exponential (it goes down faster the less petrol you have).

I was all ready to go and when I turned the ignition on I watched the petrol gauge go up... and stop just after halfway. Bearing in mind I'd filled it up two days before and not moved it and the tank takes 42 litres, that's a big difference.

So I rang the RAC who came out ten minutes later and my car completely baffled the RAC man until he found what had gone on. The hose that takes the petrol from the back where you fill it up to the front where it's stored had all split, probably from age, since it was the original hose when the car was made in 1989. But there was no obvious evidence of a leak because it had frozen. There was a load of frozen white petrol on the underside of the car, and another pile of it on the drive.

He did fix it, but I didn't envy him that job with the stink of petrol and it disintegrating his gloves! After that I wasn't going to make it back before it got dark and wasn't really in a fit state to drive anyway (although given my dislike of driving I'm more often not in a fit state to drive than not). So I slept with the cat again Sunday night and got up stupidly early to drive back Monday morning.

Since I haven't had a lie-in for a few weeks that tired me out, so today's the first day I've felt human since last Friday during the day. On the plus side, that is the first thing that's gone wrong with the car since I got it in August the year before last - everything else has either been caused by me, burglers or a pheasant.

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