Driving up from Essex to Scotland with three boys in the back of the car, two bikes on the roof and two on the rear bike rack, and the boot full of luggage. We were on the A1 near Retford, and approached a roundabout with a static queue of traffic - so we stopped (we thought that was the best thing to do). The car behind us stopped too - but very close to us, and then the car behind him (which was towing an overloaded, unbraked trailer) failed to stop, hit the car behind us, and it hit us - so there we all were, in the outside lane of the A1, all crunched together, with three small kids in the car.
The police showed up, and everyone exchanged details, and finally we were able to leave - the car was driveable but the rear tail gate was completely stoved in so we headed for Retford - the closest place to stop, off the A1, and sort things out. Dh got the insurance company on the phone and yes, they would sort us out a hire car - but it would be a Vauxhall Corsa.
We look at the three boys, the two bikes that were on the roof rack and were undamaged, and all the stuff in the boot - and said No, that was not going to work - there was no way on God's clean earth we were getting all that lot into a Corsa - so the insurance company rep gave a very obvious verbal flounce and told us to sort out whatever car we needed and then claim for it.
We hit the phones. It was early Saturday afternoon by this point, and apparently every car hire place in the whole of Nottinghamshire closes at midday on a Saturday. The closest place we could find an estate car to hire was Newcastle Airport, and there was no way we could drive the car all that way - it would not have been road legal. Oh, and Newcastle airport car hire desk closed at 6pm, so getting there by train we'd be cutting it very fine - but that was our only option.
So Dh puts ds3 (aged about 4) and me on the train at Retford, to go to Newcastle airport and pick up the car. I've got more than half the luggage too - and you know what it's like when you are going on a self catering holiday by car - you don't have just one or two suitcases - you have the cases, and some bags of toys, food and other stuff, and things like wellies and bike helmets are fitted into the spare spaces around the rest of the luggage - so it was a nightmare to manage - and I had to change trains too. Dh tried to arrange assistance at the change, but it didn't materialise, so I had to get all the stuff off the train myself, and park it in a heap on the platform, with ds3 sitting on it, and run to get a trolley, then find the platform for our connecting train.
Oh - and we were both starving by this time as it was well gone lunchtime, but the buffet car looked like a swarm of locusts had hit it, so we ended up having crisps, chocolate and cake for lunch - which ds3 thought was epic!
When we finally got to Newcastle, I loaded myself, ds3 and all the gubbins into a taxi and headed for the airport - at which point things got a bit much for me, and the reaction finally caught up with me, and I got a bit weepy. The taxi driver was amazing - I explained what had happened, and that I was off to collect the car, and would then have to drive back into Newcastle, to the station, to collect dh and the other two boys, and he told me exactly how to get back in - it was the same journey in reverse, of course, but he told me which exits/lanes I'd need coming back in, and lots of other useful advice.
We made it to the airport just before 6pm, and picked up the car, and I managed to drive back into Newcastle without incident - I am a bit of a nervous driver, so driving a strange car in a strange city was not my idea of fun - and collected the others, and we decided it was too late to try to drive the rest of the way up to Scotland that night, so we stayed in a hotel - where dh spotted one of his colleagues in the hotel restaurant, trying not to be seen, because they were with someone who was not their spouse, and had clearly thought they were far enough from home and work to be safe - only for dh to walk in!