First published in August 2010.
In the Fitzgerald household the mid life crisis car has arrived and with it the associated problems of owning a beast with two seats. Firstly I failed to check whether I would actually fit in it and being a little on the portly side still, my first attempt did raise a smile from the family. I did enquire whether it came with a shoe horn the size of a surf board which is the only way that I can see of getting in and out at the moment, without fouling myself. It’s OK to roar up and pose in the car park but taking fifteen minutes to struggle to the pavement while putting on a scene which looks like Shamu giving birth at Seaworld is not cool. Standing their red faced, trying to catch your breath and then resting on the car only to burn yourself on the exhaust pipes adds to the hilarity of the assembled crowd who have come to look at ‘middle aged motorbility’ man.
I picked up the car in Dorset last week and forgetting it was an open topped vehicle, I had chosen a day when the weather was described as ‘heavy downpours’ with scattered showers…..oh joy! So, as I had no wish to drive a 70 mph carp pond, I erected the flimsy canvas roof and bolted down the hatches. This clever device channelled the teaming rain down the back of my shirt and formed puddles in the foot well but the front half of me was bone dry. As the journey continued, I hit the main road problems of that Saturday, both M5 and A38 blocked by accidents, and there I sat with the huge engine gently throbbing, getting hotter and hotter in an endless queue. When the rain did stop, the over heating engine had the beneficial effect of drying out the cockpit and pretty quickly, so quickly in fact, that for most of the journey from Honiton to Exeter I was driving a small greenhouse, come sauna, and had to open the window to breath and let out steam. On clear moments I could see as far as the gear knob.
Safely home after six hours and £90.00 in petrol, I marvelled at my purchase and spotted a slight oil leak at the top of the engine.
Cycling Dick, my next door neighbour, garage owner and future multi millionaire petrol station owner, explained that it was an oil pressure switch, gasket manifold indicator condenser relay thingy….and not to worry. It would be easy to fix. The next day I drove down the drive of Bovey Castle Hotel, hit a rock and tore the sump out of the engine and thus dumped a couple of gallons of oil in their car park. But at least that stopped the oil leak from the top of the engine! Eddie the Rescue Ranger, another friend from the motoring world, then dispatched a small lorry to pick up my pride and joy.
In three days the quickest it has travelled was on the back of Eddie’s lorry! One car, two bills and a hernia. God I love being middle aged.
Fitz
