We've often wondered if there's a proper way to do this.

Is there an Eriba equivalent of having one of your trouser legs rolled up in a Masonic fashion? That kind of thing?

I realise that you can't tell if someone has their trouser leg rolled up when you're in two cars on opposite sides of the M6 with a closing speed of 120mph (ish) and an Armco barrier blocking the view, but you get the idea.

I do wonder if we're missing a trick sometimes when we do something we think is appropriate only to be met with a couple of po-faced glumsters coming the other way.

Actually, that might be unfair.

It's entirely possible that the other people have just had the mother of all rows about something they forgot, that the dog has just crimped one off in the back despite walking unproductively round what passes for grass at the services for half an hour only ten minutes ago, or that they can hear the crashing and banging from behind because the cutlery drawer has just fallen out again.

Or maybe they're just miserable buggers. Never met one in person, but statistically there are bound to be some somewhere.

Should we do a cheery wave, a flash of the lights, an enthusiastic tootle on the horn or a smug grin as wide as the Mersey shared between discerning people of class and style?

We have tried one slightly leftfield approach, with mixed results.

For a while we kept a Very pistol and a handful of cartridges in the glove box, reasoning that firing a maroon out of the sunroof whenever we saw another Eriba would be a wizard jape and huge fun for all concerned.

Actually, that isn't quite true because the car we had at the time didn't have a sunroof, as we found to our cost the first time we tried it.

We had to stop and wind the windows down because the flare filled the car with smoke and we couldn't see where we were going.

Our eyes streamed, and the damned thing nearly set Mrs P's holiday slippers alight. We were both coughing for days afterwards, and every time either of us blew our nose the hanky was full of purple bogies.

And boy is that pistol loud in a confined space.

Mrs P's ears rang for days.

.

Nobody waves at me or flashes, because I'm one of the few educated ones with a Feeling. They don't know it's an Eriba or it may be that they are just snobs.
On site I get my own back though when I see an Eriba. I descend upon the poor owners and spread the word of all the nice people on Eribafolk. Most turn out to be very nice, but I think I've met a couple of those "miserable buggers" you mention.

Colin

I think I mentioned it last year while touring but the French particularly, are still ln love with their classic Eribas and still acknowledge others on the road and on campsites. They spend all their money on flash cars to tow them with.
While on the Pamplona Spain Campsite two other Eribas turned up, one nearly new German owned Troll and they (he especially) totally ignored us and a early 1990s Dutch owned Pan Familia, the owners of which were so very friendly.
To me I think people who are new to Eribas don't know the game.
Randa