It’s 10:30 PM on Wednesday evening. Kwint drives on the A12 in her red Volkswagen Golf 5 GTI. She adores the thing her parents advanced and she just paid off. She calls herself a car enthusiast. Her car is everything to her. But then she sees a shadow on the viaduct at Shell Bloemheuvel, near the Utrecht village of Woudenberg.
She remembers seeing two boys and a dark car just as the eggs came down. But she couldn’t think about it for long. In a split second she hears loud bangs on her car. The glasses case hanging from the ceiling falls down. Reflexively she presses her horn – ‘But that was of no use at all’ – and steers her car towards the hard shoulder. At that time, her windshield is also completely covered with egg whites and yolks. “I could see a little bit through the automatic wipers, but it just kept dripping down from the roof.”
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