Nearly 20 years ago now I had arranged to meet my then-boyfriend at a golf course after work. I'd never driven there straight from work before, and to get there I needed to take a small country road that I had never travelled along before. I was running late, and my car was very short of petrol. But I knew my journey was not terribly long (perhaps 16 miles or so), and I also knew there was a petrol station not far from the golf course ... so I decided to take the risk and not make myself even later by making a detour to get petrol before I set off.
Several miles later, far from anywhere, my engine began to cough, then the whole car began to hop, and then it cut out altogether. No petrol. It was a fairly hilly, windy, lonely, country road and, not knowing whether the nearest help would be behind or in front of me, I decided to just let the car roll on under its own momentum until it came to a natural stop ... down a slight hill, round a bend at the bottom of it ... and there on the left hand side was one of those tiny, independent, family-run petrol stations that you hardly ever see any more!
But there's more.