The crazy French

The words ‘car chase’ and ‘funeral cortege’ don’t often appear in the same sentence, and for good reason. But then again, I’ve never been to a funeral in France before, so maybe that’s just how they do it. The plan was for a convoy of cars to drive from the funeral parlour to the crematorium, a distance of perhaps 20 miles, most of which was autoroute. At the front was a converted Mercedes Vito van carrying the coffin of my good friend Colin. I was expecting something slow and sedate at maybe 40mph. Instead, as soon as we got on the autoroute, the Vito set off at a hell of a pace overtaking all and sundry. We mourners, in a mix of British-plated family runabouts a long way from home and hire cars, were struggling to keep up. I hit 95mph briefly in my rental Corsa just trying to keep the van in sight. It wasn’t exactly dignified, but I think Colin would have found it quite funny.