Last week, won a car on ebay. It's on "the list" and I've wanted/ searched for one for six years.
Got picked up in a taxi on Wednesday morning. It had to stop for diesel and when the driver was restarting it, it was like it was in gear, but actually it was just the clutch was that done it was pretty much stuck on. The electric windows were all broken and it seemed about to fall apart, but being a Peugeot 406 it made it to the airport just fine.
Flew to Southampton, bus into city, train to Fareham, ring seller, who tells me the car has a flat battery. He picks us (my dad and I) and we go to the car. It needs pushed backwards up a sloped drive onto a narrow cul-de-sac road, so there's a 15 point turn involved, and the car weighs 2 tons. He has no idea where his Mercedes battery is and it takes 15 minutes to find it in the boot, where I said it was to begin with. He then asks me if I brought any tools with me (on a plane? to pick up a car with a long MOT with "no running issues"?).
He has already in the ebay ad said the starter clicks over and doesn't always catch, but it always starts when you get it. But when it's five minutes of clicking before a catch - that's a screwed starter solenoid. Anyway it fires up in the end, and I pay the monies and get moving. Battery is still flat and it has no petrol so off to a station - thankfully no locking cap so it can be filled while running. My electric window goes down but not up.
Off we go to Portsmouth to find the LVLO to tax it. Takes 2 hours driving round to find that. Stopped in the city somewhere and a group of youths walk past, saying "That's awesome". One boy comes back - "hi, I just wanted to say your car is really cool!" and I say "I know, thankyou!"
Eventually park up in the Travelodge opposite (other motels are available) for the night, and go across the road to tax it.
First, they wont accept it because I'm changing the address to NI. So I argue, get a supervisor and have to put it in a friends English address just so I can tax the thing. Then there is a whole palaver when I present them with some NI currency. Eventually, 45 minutes later, I come out with that little round disc of paper. Fully exhausted and stressed.
Cod and chips fixes that.
Next morning, it's off to look at boats.
And who fancies some genuine antique weaponry? I do...
Obviously the south coast still has a few mods...
And from there, while it buckets down, we start off towards Southampton again. It was mentioned in the ad that the wipers weren't working, "due to a fuse or relay". After the rain got heavier and heavier, and I couldn't see any more, I pulled in to see about sorting this out. Nothing would make the motor turn, even direct power, ended up taking a feed off the horn, making a direct earth and got the wipers to move two inches. Then the cabin filled with smoke and the switch burned out. With no tools, nothing, nada, and no shops selling ANYTHING useful, I undid all the trim screws with a spare key and the 7mm nuts with my fingers (called "ratchet-fingers" in work as apparently they have a very good grip) and ripped the dash apart to find smouldering wires and an absolute mess off chopped about wiring. Oh, the joy. Didn't much matter about the dash as it has that many cracks and splits that wildlife probably lives inside it.
So in the dark, in the drenching rain, having not got any wipers going, I proceed a few miles to the nearest Holiday Inn and there we camp. Someone leans out the window and says, "Ere mate, yoof got a right awesome car there like" to which I say "thankyou".
Once again I'm exhausted and stressed, but also cold and wet.
Some very expensive soup and a hot shower sorts that.
Next morning, thank God, its glorious sunshine, so it's off to Beaulieu.
That's rather enjoyable.
Late afternoon we venture North. It gets another fill-up. Outside Oxford it gets another fill-up. Into Oxford to pick up some parts. It gets dark but stays dry. Time to explore the headlights, which are on, or off. On means EVERYTHING so I am blinding people, but it's not strong enough to actually see much. The cruise control doesn't work either. Even when it's dry outside the carpets are still damp and the water inside the doors is sloshing around so you still feel like you are at sea, and given the boat like rolling in corners, that's the best way to think about it.
Outside Cheltenham, it gets another fill-up. About now I'm trying to work out the MPG, supposedly 15-20, but more like 9-12? It has a 90 litre tank and each fill is very eye-watering.
Off to and through Wales, where it decides to bucket down again as we are going through roadworks outside Dolgellau. Down a muddy single lane road at midnight in pouring rain, curse word lights, having given up the futile attempt to wipe the screen with a towel, I'm now doing it Ace Ventura style with my head out of the window, but then it becomes sleet and my face isn't pleased. Escape the roadworks and immediately swerve into a closed, covered fuel station.
Time to sit out the rain.
I'm now exhausted, stressed, cold, wet and have been pelted about my face. There is no hot food to fix it.
It's now Saturday 00.30 am. Rain stops and it's back on the road for Holyhead, which goes OK and the only thing that works properly, i.e. the 10-disc cd system and all the speakers, keeps me from going batty. My window works again, but the mirrors don't and they keep bouncing around violently, so glare-black-glare-black-glare is the order of the day.
Miss the 2.30am ferry to Dublin by 10 minutes so it's into the back seat and wait for he 8am one. Electric front seat only moves slightly otherwise I'd be up there. Oh and the seatbelt doesn't work right any more.
Ferry on, no problem. Customs don't stop us, which is nice as it takes an average of 54 clicks before the starter motor engages, hot or cold. Ferry traffic director says my car is "massive".
Exhausted, stressed, not so wet any more and a bit of fry on the ferry sorts all that.
Ferry off - not so good. Battery -ve terminal falls apart and can't be made to stay on without tools, which we didn't have. Clamps from the ships crews' jump pack are enough and it roars up. I say roars - the pipe may be stainless steel, but it really doesn't have that violent muscular noise it should have. Probably because it's been running off a cylinder most of the time it's been throttled, and throttling hard takes it off two cylinders. Thankfully there are enough to spare two.
As we get off the ferry, helped by the nice guys at Stena (other ferries are available but they're curse word) the brakes are stuck on, and a problem that reared it's head once or twice in England, no PAS, also flares up again. So I'm wrestling two tons of metal round corners in Dublin port with the brakes stuck on and out of fuel again.
Stay running and put some fuel in at the port. Also put some PAS fluid into the reservoir to stem the loss, no doubt due to the leak that receipts say was fixed for the last MOT. Brakes release themselves as we drive off. Find our way out of Dublin and start off up the M1 towards NI.
Another few miles, maybe 10 or 15, and it's time for more fuel. Fill up (again), and move out of the extremely busy station - and chug chug stall. Stalled an Auto - what a skill. The battery cable has come off again and needs more fixing this time. Takes 10-15 minutes and two very helpful people that lend us spanners and a hammer to fix it.
And off we go, heading the last 100 miles home. It's high noon, with sunshine, no rain and no reason to use any of the faulty appliances, so another one breaks. The car has now decided that ALL the electrics run through the radio and any time anything is used, the radio switches off. The alternator belt is squealing and, judging by the smell, slightly melting. Floor it all the way home and nothing else breaks.
The gearshift (column change) is very notchy, the idle is poor, the paintwork needs re-done, the interior is ripped and the doorcards are rotten, the interior trim is all falling off, the exterior trim is pulling away in places too, the seals are all done, and fault after fault and it's done about 10mpg but it's home!
You can judge for yourselves if it's worth it - for me, I have #11 off my 'must own' list.
Got picked up in a taxi on Wednesday morning. It had to stop for diesel and when the driver was restarting it, it was like it was in gear, but actually it was just the clutch was that done it was pretty much stuck on. The electric windows were all broken and it seemed about to fall apart, but being a Peugeot 406 it made it to the airport just fine.
Flew to Southampton, bus into city, train to Fareham, ring seller, who tells me the car has a flat battery. He picks us (my dad and I) and we go to the car. It needs pushed backwards up a sloped drive onto a narrow cul-de-sac road, so there's a 15 point turn involved, and the car weighs 2 tons. He has no idea where his Mercedes battery is and it takes 15 minutes to find it in the boot, where I said it was to begin with. He then asks me if I brought any tools with me (on a plane? to pick up a car with a long MOT with "no running issues"?).
He has already in the ebay ad said the starter clicks over and doesn't always catch, but it always starts when you get it. But when it's five minutes of clicking before a catch - that's a screwed starter solenoid. Anyway it fires up in the end, and I pay the monies and get moving. Battery is still flat and it has no petrol so off to a station - thankfully no locking cap so it can be filled while running. My electric window goes down but not up.
Off we go to Portsmouth to find the LVLO to tax it. Takes 2 hours driving round to find that. Stopped in the city somewhere and a group of youths walk past, saying "That's awesome". One boy comes back - "hi, I just wanted to say your car is really cool!" and I say "I know, thankyou!"
Eventually park up in the Travelodge opposite (other motels are available) for the night, and go across the road to tax it.
First, they wont accept it because I'm changing the address to NI. So I argue, get a supervisor and have to put it in a friends English address just so I can tax the thing. Then there is a whole palaver when I present them with some NI currency. Eventually, 45 minutes later, I come out with that little round disc of paper. Fully exhausted and stressed.
Cod and chips fixes that.
Next morning, it's off to look at boats.
And who fancies some genuine antique weaponry? I do...
Obviously the south coast still has a few mods...
And from there, while it buckets down, we start off towards Southampton again. It was mentioned in the ad that the wipers weren't working, "due to a fuse or relay". After the rain got heavier and heavier, and I couldn't see any more, I pulled in to see about sorting this out. Nothing would make the motor turn, even direct power, ended up taking a feed off the horn, making a direct earth and got the wipers to move two inches. Then the cabin filled with smoke and the switch burned out. With no tools, nothing, nada, and no shops selling ANYTHING useful, I undid all the trim screws with a spare key and the 7mm nuts with my fingers (called "ratchet-fingers" in work as apparently they have a very good grip) and ripped the dash apart to find smouldering wires and an absolute mess off chopped about wiring. Oh, the joy. Didn't much matter about the dash as it has that many cracks and splits that wildlife probably lives inside it.
So in the dark, in the drenching rain, having not got any wipers going, I proceed a few miles to the nearest Holiday Inn and there we camp. Someone leans out the window and says, "Ere mate, yoof got a right awesome car there like" to which I say "thankyou".
Once again I'm exhausted and stressed, but also cold and wet.
Some very expensive soup and a hot shower sorts that.
Next morning, thank God, its glorious sunshine, so it's off to Beaulieu.
That's rather enjoyable.
Late afternoon we venture North. It gets another fill-up. Outside Oxford it gets another fill-up. Into Oxford to pick up some parts. It gets dark but stays dry. Time to explore the headlights, which are on, or off. On means EVERYTHING so I am blinding people, but it's not strong enough to actually see much. The cruise control doesn't work either. Even when it's dry outside the carpets are still damp and the water inside the doors is sloshing around so you still feel like you are at sea, and given the boat like rolling in corners, that's the best way to think about it.
Outside Cheltenham, it gets another fill-up. About now I'm trying to work out the MPG, supposedly 15-20, but more like 9-12? It has a 90 litre tank and each fill is very eye-watering.
Off to and through Wales, where it decides to bucket down again as we are going through roadworks outside Dolgellau. Down a muddy single lane road at midnight in pouring rain, curse word lights, having given up the futile attempt to wipe the screen with a towel, I'm now doing it Ace Ventura style with my head out of the window, but then it becomes sleet and my face isn't pleased. Escape the roadworks and immediately swerve into a closed, covered fuel station.
Time to sit out the rain.
I'm now exhausted, stressed, cold, wet and have been pelted about my face. There is no hot food to fix it.
It's now Saturday 00.30 am. Rain stops and it's back on the road for Holyhead, which goes OK and the only thing that works properly, i.e. the 10-disc cd system and all the speakers, keeps me from going batty. My window works again, but the mirrors don't and they keep bouncing around violently, so glare-black-glare-black-glare is the order of the day.
Miss the 2.30am ferry to Dublin by 10 minutes so it's into the back seat and wait for he 8am one. Electric front seat only moves slightly otherwise I'd be up there. Oh and the seatbelt doesn't work right any more.
Ferry on, no problem. Customs don't stop us, which is nice as it takes an average of 54 clicks before the starter motor engages, hot or cold. Ferry traffic director says my car is "massive".
Exhausted, stressed, not so wet any more and a bit of fry on the ferry sorts all that.
Ferry off - not so good. Battery -ve terminal falls apart and can't be made to stay on without tools, which we didn't have. Clamps from the ships crews' jump pack are enough and it roars up. I say roars - the pipe may be stainless steel, but it really doesn't have that violent muscular noise it should have. Probably because it's been running off a cylinder most of the time it's been throttled, and throttling hard takes it off two cylinders. Thankfully there are enough to spare two.
As we get off the ferry, helped by the nice guys at Stena (other ferries are available but they're curse word) the brakes are stuck on, and a problem that reared it's head once or twice in England, no PAS, also flares up again. So I'm wrestling two tons of metal round corners in Dublin port with the brakes stuck on and out of fuel again.
Stay running and put some fuel in at the port. Also put some PAS fluid into the reservoir to stem the loss, no doubt due to the leak that receipts say was fixed for the last MOT. Brakes release themselves as we drive off. Find our way out of Dublin and start off up the M1 towards NI.
Another few miles, maybe 10 or 15, and it's time for more fuel. Fill up (again), and move out of the extremely busy station - and chug chug stall. Stalled an Auto - what a skill. The battery cable has come off again and needs more fixing this time. Takes 10-15 minutes and two very helpful people that lend us spanners and a hammer to fix it.
And off we go, heading the last 100 miles home. It's high noon, with sunshine, no rain and no reason to use any of the faulty appliances, so another one breaks. The car has now decided that ALL the electrics run through the radio and any time anything is used, the radio switches off. The alternator belt is squealing and, judging by the smell, slightly melting. Floor it all the way home and nothing else breaks.
The gearshift (column change) is very notchy, the idle is poor, the paintwork needs re-done, the interior is ripped and the doorcards are rotten, the interior trim is all falling off, the exterior trim is pulling away in places too, the seals are all done, and fault after fault and it's done about 10mpg but it's home!
You can judge for yourselves if it's worth it - for me, I have #11 off my 'must own' list.
