Tootling down through France, somewhere south of Clermont Ferrand on the A75, headed for a peaceful spot and two relaxing weeks in a gite near Perpignan. Now-XDH was driving our rather elderly but regularly serviced Saab hatchback when we saw the engine temperature rising scarily quickly.
We left the motorway at the next exit and found the only bar/restaurant in the first village open. We phoned our UK insurers; they promised rescue, and we waited, and waited, had a good meal and waited some more. Fortunately we both speak fairly good French, and the restaurateur kept us supplied with coffee, and the other customers with friendly conversation.
After three and a half hours a rescue vehicle arrived, it had come a long way, from Albi. Once in Albi the rescue garage people said they couldn't service a Saab but had instructions that our insurers would arrange its transport to a Saab repairer, but they didn't know yet where that would be. They'd had some documents faxed to them for us to sign and fax back to our insurers, and handed us the keys to a new model Renault hatchback, smaller than our Saab but enough to carry everything for two weeks in a gite. They were also the local Hertz agency! We were happy.
By Thursday of the second week we still hadn't heard where our car was, and were leaving on the Saturday. We had to wait for a call back from UK. We tried to find out first from Saab's main French office and then the Michelin guide, where the nearest Saab repairers were. There was no internet service in the area we were staying, this was the 1990s. We were out of luck, not even Saab France's office had a clue. We guessed 1. Toulouse, 2. Bordeaux, 3. Montpellier, 4. Limoges. 5. Clermont Ferrand. It had to be one of those five, didn't it? On Thursday evening we got a phone call from UK to say the car was in Poitiers, even further away and closer to our ferry port (Le Havre) than it was to us.
Before leaving on Saturday we had the only argument of the holiday. Him: It's quicker going through Angoulême!. Me: Fuck that! Not on a Saturday!. It was settled by me grabbing the keys and getting into the driver's seat. We shot up the A10 as fast as we legally could and got to the repair garage before the official closing time of 4pm but learned that the insurance company had asked them to keep someone available to give us our car back if we were late.
The problem was the engine thermostat had failed. That wasn't the cheapest travel insurance price we'd been quoted but I was incredibly glad it was the one we chose. I forget who we were insured with, but we were impressed with the service all round despite the lapse in communication re whereabouts in France our car was.