At the Petrol Station

It is Sunday morning and I am driving to visit my parents in the countryside. They live about two hours from the city. I left home at eight and I have been driving for about forty minutes. I look at the fuel gauge and notice that my car is low on fuel. The orange warning light is on. I need to find a petrol station soon or I will run out of fuel on the motorway. I look for signs. After about five minutes, I see a sign that says "Petrol Station - 2 km." I take the exit and follow the road to the station. It is a large station with eight pumps, a shop inside, and a car wash. I pull up to pump number three and turn off the engine. I get out of the car and look at the pump. There are three options: unleaded petrol, diesel, and premium unleaded. My car uses unleaded petrol.

I pick up the nozzle for unleaded petrol and put it into my car. I squeeze the handle and watch the numbers go up on the display. The fuel costs one euro sixty-five per litre. I fill the tank completely. When it is full, the pump clicks and stops automatically. The display shows forty-two litres and a total of sixty-nine euros thirty cents. That is expensive, but I need a full tank for the long drive. I put the nozzle back and close my fuel cap. Now I need to go inside to pay. I also want to buy some snacks for the journey and maybe a coffee. I lock my car and walk towards the shop. On the way, I notice the tyre pressure machine. I think I should check my tyres before the long drive. I will do that after I pay.

Inside the shop, there is a small queue at the counter. While I wait, I look around. There are shelves of snacks, drinks, magazines, and car accessories. I pick up a bottle of water, a packet of crisps, and a chocolate bar. I also see a car air freshener that smells like pine trees. I add it to my collection. When it is my turn at the counter, I say, "Pump number three, please. And these items." The woman scans everything and says, "The fuel is sixty-nine thirty, and the other items are six euros fifty. Total is seventy-five euros eighty." I say, "Can I pay with a card?" She says, "Yes, of course." I tap my card on the machine. She gives me a receipt and says, "Do you need a receipt for the fuel separately?" I say, "Yes, please. I need it for work expenses." She prints a separate fuel receipt.

I say, "One more thing. Can you check the oil for me? I am not sure how to do it myself." She says, "I am sorry, this is self-service. But I can show you how if you like." I say, "Actually, do you sell motor oil here? I want to have some in the car just in case." She points to a shelf and says, "Motor oil is over there. We have different types. What car do you drive?" I tell her and she recommends the right one. It costs twelve euros. I buy it and put it in my boot. Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it. My father always says that. He taught me a lot about cars when I was younger. He will probably check everything when I arrive at his house anyway. He always does.

I go back outside to check my tyre pressure. The machine is free to use. I unscrew the cap on my first tyre and attach the air hose. The display shows the current pressure: two point one. The recommended pressure for my car is two point three. It is a little low. I add air until it reaches two point three, then move to the next tyre. I check all four tyres. Three of them needed a little extra air. The fourth was fine. I also check the spare tyre in the boot. It is okay. I feel better knowing my tyres are at the correct pressure. It is safer for driving, especially on the motorway at high speed. It also helps with fuel efficiency. My father told me that under-inflated tyres use more fuel. I screw all the caps back on and I am ready to continue my journey.

Before I leave, I decide to use the car wash. My car is very dirty from the rain last week. There is mud on the sides and bird droppings on the windscreen. The car wash costs eight euros for a basic wash or twelve euros for a full wash with wax. I choose the basic wash. I drive my car into the car wash bay and follow the instructions on the screen. I put my card in the machine, select "basic wash," and wait. A green light tells me to drive forward slowly. I stop when the red light comes on. Then the machine starts. Water sprays from all directions, then soap, then brushes spin around the car. It takes about five minutes. When it is finished, the green light comes on again and I drive out the other side. My car looks much better now. Clean and shiny.

I get back on the motorway and continue driving towards my parents' house. The road is quiet on a Sunday morning. I put on some music and enjoy the drive. The countryside is beautiful. Green fields stretch out on both sides of the road. I can see cows grazing and horses running in a paddock. The sky is blue with a few white clouds. I think about my parents. I have not seen them for three weeks. My mother will have cooked a big lunch, as she always does when I visit. She always makes too much food. My father will want to show me something in the garden. He spends most of his time gardening now that he is retired. Last time I visited, he had planted tomatoes and peppers. I wonder how they are growing.

After another hour of driving, I take the exit for my parents' village. The road becomes narrower and winds through small towns and farmland. I pass the old church, the village shop, and the school where I went as a child. Everything looks the same as it always does. That is comforting. Some things change, but this village stays the same. I turn into my parents' street and see their house at the end. It is a small white house with a red roof and a large garden. My mother is already at the door, waving. She must have been watching for my car. I park in the driveway and get out. She comes running over and gives me a big hug. She says, "You are here! I have been waiting all morning. Come in, come in. Lunch is almost ready."

My father comes from the garden. He is wearing his old gardening clothes and has dirt on his hands. He shakes my hand firmly and says, "Good to see you, son. How was the drive?" I say, "Good. The roads were quiet. I stopped for fuel on the way." He says, "Did you check your tyres?" I smile and say, "Yes, Dad. I checked the tyres and the oil." He looks pleased. He says, "Good. Come and see the garden before lunch. The tomatoes are doing very well this year." We walk around the garden together. He shows me his tomatoes, which are big and red. He also has peppers, courgettes, beans, and herbs. He gives me a bag of tomatoes to take home. He says, "These are much better than the ones you buy in the supermarket." I agree. They smell wonderful.

We go inside for lunch. My mother has made roast chicken with potatoes, vegetables, and gravy. There is also a homemade apple pie for dessert. As I predicted, there is far too much food for three people. We sit at the dining table and eat together. My parents ask me about work, my friends, and my life in the city. I tell them about the group dinner we are planning and about my new phone contract. My mother says, "Are you eating properly? You look thin." I laugh and say, "Yes, Mum. I eat well. I cook every day." My father says, "You should come more often. Every two weeks, not every three." I say, "I will try, Dad. I promise." After lunch, we have tea and apple pie in the garden. The sun is warm and the birds are singing. I feel happy and peaceful. There is nothing quite like being with your parents, no matter how old you are.