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My (and my family's) favourite road trip has always that from South to North Wales (the A470). No motorways, no fast roads (hopefuilly few tractors), just lots of driving the way it used to be. And what wonders await our arrival! Mopuntainous scenery, narrow-guage steam railways, exchanting castles to explore. Bliss.

I was once on holiday with my dad and my sister in Ireland. We were driving down a country lane when this older lady (possibly 60's/70's) flagged us down and asked for a lift. As soon as she got in the car it was clear that she had been drinking (it was mid-morning) and probably also a little unstable. She began to get very aggressive so my dad stopped the car and asked her to get out. We continued to drive for another 20 minutes or so, eventually got to our destination...and there she was!! She had somehow beaten us despite the fact that when we left her she had no mode of transport. Very creepy!

Driving through the French alps and then Switzerland in the spring was hair raising but stunningly beautiful - if I had money (and courage!), I would buy a large chalet and move there.

My favourite road trip was driving through the New Forest National Park between Lyndhurst and Beaulieu where you pass miles of heathland surrounded by tame donkeys, wild horses, ponies and pigs, all happy to share the road with you and quite welcoming!

My best road trip or worse depending on your perspective. My friend past his driving test and said we'd go a road trip to alton towers. Unfortunately for us my friend didn't have the best sense of direction and very poor map reading skills (before the invention of satnav). We ended up breaking down in the middle of nowhere. After an hour of no phone signals and no traffic going past we really started to worry we would have to sleep the night in the car. Thankfully a tractor came past and we managed to convince the farmer to take us to his to use the phone. Me and one of my friends jumped on the tractor and the farmer took us to his. At the house I met the farmers daughter and we chatted while my friend called the AA. I exchanged numbers with the daughter as she wanted to check we got back ok. We got saved by the AA who towed us back home and we never got to alton towers. Anyway a few days later after the event and after exchanging texts with the daughter of the farmer she asked if we could meet up. Within a month we were married and over 21 years later we are still married thanks to my friends poor sense of direction and cheap car. Me an my friends still joke about this day and what would have happened if it wasn't for my wife and her father. So this road trip managed to be my best and worse road trip at the same time.

When I was 16, first holiday abroad away from parental control. We went for 3 weeks, a group of 16, we worked our way round the coastal road route area in a minibus taking in France, Portugal, Spain & Italy. We were camping to keep the cost down staying wherever we fancied. It was amazing in part because looking back I don't think you never fully appreciate the freedom and the carefree nature of that age that you have without adult responsibilities.

My best road trips ever were the ones when I went on a Monday morning with my dad from West Wales to London dead early singing Elton John all the way down the M4 as he worked all week in London. It was perfect Daddy-Girlie time and they are very very happy memories

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You won't believe this

I used to own a mazda MX5. Oh it was lovely and I especially liked going out shopping in it with my daughter with the top down. We felt like the BEEZ NEEZ riding along getting admiring glances from other drivers.

One evening I was going out to meet some friends for a meal in the city. At that time I had a niggling cough. As I was driving along I coughed and it caused me to wet my knickers.

I pulled over to the side and removed them. I attached them to the wing mirror and pulled off in the hope that they may dry in the breeze.

I pulled out sharpish at a roundabout and before I knew it there was a police car behind me indicating me to stop.

The nice policeman got out of his car and came over. I wound the window down. I asked him what I had done wrong.

Apparently I had been a bit nippy going across the roundabout and he wanted me to slow down a little since lower down the road there had been instances of students throwing themselves in front of cars, and he didn't want me to hit one

Then he saw the knickers..........

My most memorable trip was driving my dad from Somerset up to Yorkshire when he was moving to live near us. My husband came as well. Dad was very frail having been in hospital for over four months. He had dementia and walked with a zimmer very slowly. It was my worse trip ever from Somerset to Yorkshire as the weather suddenly deteriorated and it snowed heavily. It took us twelve hours before we delivered my dad to the nursing home he lived in for six weeks before moving into a bungalow with my mum once the sale was complete and the family home sold .

When I was a teenager I had a pen friend who lived in the USA. When she married I was invited to the wedding but couldn't afford a plane ticket but many years later my dear, late husband and I decided to mark my 50th birthday with a special trip. We flew to New York but then travelled in a great loop: down to Washington DC - a truly beautiful city - on to North Carolina to visit my pen friend and her husband and daughters, on to New Orleans (my husband was a great jazz fan), to Memphis where we visited the Sun Studios, Graceland, and BB King's club, then to Chicago and then across to the east and back to fly home from JFK airport. A magical trip with so many memories that when I arranged my husband's memorial service last autumn I reflected our travels in the music chosen with lots of his favourite jazz. Bittersweet but I was so proud of the reactions of the congregation - family and friends - as I talked from the lectern about this special trip and the memories I will always treasure....

I was driving from Cheshire to Harrogate for a conference, intending to go via the M65 and from there over to Skipton. Before I reached the motorway, I saw black clouds over the Accrington area and by the time I got on to the motorway the snow was lying several inches deep and the traffic had to move slowly and very cautiously. I knew it would be fatal to go by Skipton and the hazardous route (even in normal conditions) over to Harrogate on the A59. So I had to go through Bradford. Having negotiated that, I was at last on a road that led to Harrogate but was daft enough to decide on a back road that would take me there sooner! Of course I was wrong. Another bright idea took me up a very steep hill on which I miraculously managed to keep the car going forward and eventually arrived at the conference only two hours late.

Well maybe not my best car trip, but certainly my most memorable happened shortly after I had bought my first, fabulous convertible. It was a couple of years after my husband had died and I was just coming out of the long dark tunnel of bereavement. I was on my way to stay with my brother in Maidenhead, prior to flying to Vienna to spend Christmas with my Aunt. I live about two and a half hours drive away and I was looking forward to giving my new car a decent spin. After about an hour's drive the sky got very, very dark and it began to snow. Twenty minutes later I came to a halt, on the slip road off the M3, in about 9 inches of snow, and a blizzard raged. It then took me NINE HOURS to complete the journey! I was petrified, as I had never driven in snow (my husband always drove), I was unused to the car and desperate for the loo! Driving, or rather creeping, through Basingstoke there were fabulous kind folk by the side of the road offering coffee, biscuits and sweets! I've never forgotten their kindness and think about them every time I travel that route.

In 1972 I was in Perth, Western Australia, and answered an ad for a co-driver to Darwin. The vehicle was an old Holden and it took me hundreds of miles to get the hang of the idea that a place on the map didn't necessarily promise somewhere to eat, shower and sleep. More often than not it meant an antique petrol pump. I learned how to drive on bull dust (straight down the middle), but even though we had four punctures I never learned how to change a tyre (shameful). It took us a fortnight and I grew to love those harsh colour's and the inhospitable landscape.

One of the funniest (though possibly not for my husband) was when dh and I went to Germany with my parents, back to a placed I'd lived as a child.
My Mum has a terrible sense of direction, me and my Dad are not so bad but both get completely muddled with our lefts and rights. Add in some of the changes to the roads in the area, and poor dh was driving us in his father in laws beloved (right hand drive) classic car with us all shouting out random, mostly incorrect directions.
We had made it all the way from the UK to Germany no problems, but then spent a week getting thoroughly lost :-)

We were travelling around Cornwall and a police car pulled out in front of us and I just happened to look in the mirror and there was one behind us! it was as if we were being escorted on the road...we were getting a lot of stares and attention from other traffic coming in the opposite direction and people on the roadside so I started giving a royal wave and smile and people were waving back and shouting Im sure people thought we were famous! No idea who they thought we were....it only lasted for approx 15 minutes but have to say it was the best and funniest roadtrip Ive been on..?