Bad journey practice prose
Last year we were on holiday.
We were going to see some friends
who live in France close to Nice
and we had decided to travel by car.
Unfortunately we couldn/t find our passports
on leaving the house
because mum had put them in a suitcase.
Suddenly my sister said, “I feel ill…
I want to get out of the car.”
But there was too much traffic
and we couldn’t stop.
My father was looking for a service station
when there was an explosion
and the car broke down
20 kilometres souuth of Canterbury.
He couldn’t fix it,
So he had to call the breakdown services,
and so we arrived at Dover
too late to take the ferry.
It was three o’clock in the morning
when we finally arrived in France.