SUSAN TIPPETT BRAITHWAITE

Having driven from Aberdeenshire in the North East of Scotland to Cornwall in the South West of England so many times that I’ve lost count, it’s hard to pick out a specific trip that was truly memorable.

I remember different bits from different trips, but that’s it. But the most memorable one would have to be the first time I drove the journey.

Tasmin

The journey itself was nothing special. I don’t recall much about it, but the feelings are etched in my memory.

It was 1997. I was eighteen, and I’d just bought my first car, Tasmin, a used 1992 Fiat Uno in an aquamarine green. I was on leave from the Royal Navy and was back home visiting my parents when I bought her.

The visit home was… let’s call it strained. Not only because I had decided to spend some of my money on me, but I’d also ended a two-year relationship the day before I bought Tasmin.

The Essentials

With my leave almost over, I packed my kit bag into the boot and loaded the passenger seat with all my essentials for the journey. The essentials being bottles of water and Irn Bru, pieces an cheese (Scots for cheese sandwiches), and cassette tapes.

I opened the sunroof and waved goodbye to my parents, and as I pulled onto the A90, I pressed play on the stereo. The soundtrack to my first solo 720-mile trip was a mix tape full of Foo Fighters, Nine Inch Nails, James, The Beautiful South, and The The (I’ve got eclectic tastes).

Freedom

As I made my way towards Aberdeen, my body fizzed and crackled with possibilities for the future. Freedom. The word bounced around my head like a promise, like an incantation. I was on my own, free to explore wherever I wanted with my wee car on my way back to work.

City after city, mile after mile, one country into the next, the sense of freedom blossomed in my chest. The pain in my right ankle grew with each hour on the dual carriageways and motorways! So much so that I welcomed the three-hour traffic jam I found myself in in the English Midlands.

The Gift of Memory

The snail’s pace caught up with me, and I knew there was no way to make the last five hours of the journey without some sleep. I pulled off at one of the service stations and slept in the front seat for an hour or so. I have to say, as crappy as it is to sleep in a car—I’ve done it too many times now—Tasmin was surprisingly comfy for a vehicle with minimal padding in it.

Refreshed and fed, I got Tasmin a wee gift of appreciation for being a great car. (Everyone does that, don’t they?) I got her one of those Magic Trees (Little Trees now?). It had a tropical scent that was a mix of coconut and vanilla. It’s a scent I will forever link to her and that feeling of freedom she gave me.

Arrival

Anyway, I finally arrived at the base with my pride and joy. That journey didn’t just give me physical freedom. It also taught me that the future was mine to explore and write. Even now, when I catch the hint of coconuts, vanilla, or just the right shade of green, it reminds me of that feeling of freedom and a sense that the world awaits.

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Do you remember your first long solo road trip? Please tell me I’m not the only one (other than Jez) who buys gifts and treats for their cars… Let me know in the comments.

Stay awesome,

Susan x