How the worst car crash I've been in happened while I was in bed

I have to admit to choosing this topic because it's April 1st - but it really did happen. Honestly.

A good number of years ago we were staying at a friend's house in Norfolk. Around two in the morning our hosts burst into the room yelling that my car was on fire.

When we dashed outside it turned out that, thanks to fog, a couple returning from the late shift at the chicken factory (you couldn't make this up) had driven straight into the back of my car, travelling at least 30 miles per hour. It was their car that was on fire (luckily they were unhurt) rather than mine, and the Fire Brigade were already there, hosing it down.

After a certain amount of standing around in that strange mix of jumpers and pyjamas that goes with nighttime emergencies, I had a surreal conversation with a fireman.

There were a total of three cars along the side of the road. First our friend's car. Then, about a metre behind it, my car. Then the burnt out wreck. It rammed the back of my car, concertina-ing it sufficiently that the doors wouldn't open. Yet despite being nowhere near the car in front, the headlights on my car were smashed. The fireman and I speculated on strange shock waves and the like in Mulder-and-Scully-ish fashion then headed off to bed (not the firemen - they went back to the fire station).

Next morning the mystery was solved, when we discovered our friend's car had a big dent in the back. Our chicken plucking friends had hit my car so hard that it had shot forward, smashed into our friend's car, and bounced back a metre. Hence the spooky smashed headlights.

And the moral of this story? Don't park on the road on a foggy night on the road into Harleston from the chicken factory.

Photo courtesy Photobucket