Into the fray

out on the autobahn it started to become apparent why Stuart wanted rid of the car, at 80mph the car started to skip and vibrate and would stall at low revs.
after a long drive through the night I decided that I had put enough distance between me and the base a rest and a refuel was in order.
taking a jerry can from the boot of the car I went to unlock the fuel cap, the key jammed and broke off!
now I had a major problem, the car had a quarter of a tank of fuel no ignition key and was about to be reported stolen. I broke the fuel cap off and dismantled the lock removing the piece of key and filled the tank leaving the jerry can next to the road. logic dictated that with no fuel cap to worry about anymore the slither of key could hopefully be put in the ignition and pushed home with the remainder of the key. It worked! I was back on the road putting as much distance between me and my persecutors and almost in Austria.
I drove through Saltzburg heading towards Maribor on the road now for almost two days foot as close to the floor as I could get it to keep the car at speed and stable, I pulled into a service station to sleep and prepare for the next border crossing.
during the night I was woken by an ambulance pulling up next to me, the driver got out of his cab and ran to the back of the ambulance and got in, the vehicle swayed from side to side and muffled crys came from the vehicle followed by a baby's crying, I was resigned to my future and I smiled at the thought of a child coming into the world as I was leaving it.
The border was an old school affair, unlike European borders this one had a 50 meter no mans land the guards looked at each other from a distance, the gap of politics and culture was here.
The Austrians looked at the passport I offered, a black and white picture of Stuart looked out of the passport at them they handed it back and waved me through, and the car stalled!
this was not really the time or the place for this to happen so close to freedom but closer to return, I opened the door and bump started the car on the crossing.
The Slovenian customs men on the other side of the border found this very funny, with a little sympathy as I nursed the engine they asked where I was going, Zagreb I said they just gave the passport a quick glance and waved me through.
Once over the Yugoslav border I started to drive towards Zagreb, the mountainous roads were deserted of traffic, obstacles and anti tank bollards where scattered at the sides of the route where make shift roadblocks had once stood. As I journeyed on left the main road at a pass where a few houses stood on a little track . There I met a Slovenian peasant and tried to ask him for directions to Zagreb with a hope to find out what the current situation was from him.
I tried in English and then in my halting German. It was obvious that the man didn’t understand his own language never mind mine. So I went back to the car and travelled on to a new checkpoint, which by my now out of date map should have been the Hungarian border.
I passed a few more dragons teeth and obstacles that had been pushed to the side of the road by the crossing. I saw a large white limousine parked under some pine tree's it was marked up as if it was from the American embassy. The crossing was just a Porta-kabin, which was manned by some very shady looking characters in suits. They asked me where I was going.
Now who the hell were these people? I certainly didn’t want to say the wrong thing, the last news report I had heard on the radio said that the Yugoslav airforce was bombing Zagreb and that ground forces were advancing on the capital. That had been two days a go I really didn’t know how these people stood. The safest bet was to tell a whopper and hope not to get caught out, so I said to them; “I have some friends in Zagreb” fortunately they didn’t bother to look in the boot of the car, because all my kit plus helmet were in the back!

and so it continues.