Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Drat


A familiar landmark at the end of Bath's prime shopping street.  It has been a landmark for quite some time - it can be seen exactly as it is now in some old, 18th century prints.  The lion and unicorn have obviously been restored recently - by a pre-school child from the look of the colour choices.  I don't mind it though, and maybe they were just sticking to the original?

This afternoon, I am supposed to be collecting the girlies from the airport on their return trip from Ibiza, but yesterday, as I was executing a three-point (six-point, more like, with a transverse engine Volvo estate) turn in a narrow cul-de-sac, the gearbox decided to ignore the reverse option and I was forced to pull a couple of skinny alcoholics out from the nearby pub to push me a few feet backwards where I could re-park.

Because they were both skinny and alcoholic, they did not shift the 1.25 ton car an inch, so I had to recruit labour from further afield.  Having pushed the car back the short distance and left it nose-down in a bay, I fulfilled my promise to the pushers that I would buy them a drink, and they insisted on having it there and then, so we went into the nearby pub.  This was about 1.30 in the afternoon.

I ended up leaving the pub at 6.30 in the evening, but not before I had been shouted at by a passing acquaintance who accused me of having a drink problem.  I told him I had a car problem, but he took no notice.

My time in the pub was not entirely wasted, because I arranged a tow out backwards for today, then an escort (assuming the car will still go forwards) to the mechanic, and I am awaiting a call from the Land Rover right now as I write.  He is a lot later than he said he would be.  I wonder if he has forgotten.

Shame - I was looking forward to driving down country lanes with a car full of brown, young, squealing girls, but they might have to take a bus.

At least the sun is out.

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UPDATE:

Initial prognosis: gear box kaput and replacement likely to cost about 6 times more than the car is worth, so I think I will have to have the old girl put down.  That's what it feels like - awaiting a call from the vet to ask you to make a choice between spending £2000 on keeping an old and beloved pet alive, or biting the bullet and giving it the bullet.

I am now going to trawl the net in search of a slightly younger model that resides not too far away from here, and I'm not talking about brown young girls in the back of the car.

13 comments:

  1. perhaps you should have asked the barmaid to help, they tend to have bigger arms

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    1. I did - they were too busy pulling pints.

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  2. And all that on the very day that a 1966 Volvo P1800S clocked up its 3 millionth mile!

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    1. I used to have a P1800S - shit off a shovel. I sold it with 300,000 miles on the clock, and someone refurbished the engine. Great car, it used to win all the rallies (not mine).

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  3. I am staring at an old red volvo estate that needs a new engine. It's needed a new engine for a very long time. My husband keeps in in the garage, except when we go away with the other car and then he brings it out to make people think we are in. He can't rid himself of this car because it is the only car he has ever had new. This because he was allowed to buy a tax free car when we were in Germany. I so wish I could give it to you...the last Volvo he kept for renovation dripped rusty bits all the way to the knackers yard! Volvo guys! Honestly!

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    1. Try and get him to scrap it, Broad. I've been looking at V70 estates with about 100,000 miles on the clock for about £750...

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  4. Himself had a Volvo 240DL station waggon for a number of years. He loved it.

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    1. I've had two of those - one of them is still running.

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  5. I must say I am pleased I am not married to you Tom (as regards the long stay in the pub) but then I am sure the feeling is reciprocal on your part!

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    1. I cannot understand how the thought even briefly entered your head, Weaver. Methinks you protest too much. You know you want me. Go on - admit it.

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  6. Biting the bullet and using it, too. Sorry I'll never see that.

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    1. My apologies. A very bad use of language which is utterly unforgivable. Having said that, I really cannot be bothered to think of something better.

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  7. Great blog. I like your work Tom, always entertaining and/or thoughtful.

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