Don't Fiddle
The restaurants were closed on my birthday, so Kevin decided to take me out for a meal last night. Actually, the main reason was that our major sanding operation had left the kitchen in an unusable state. We showered, and we set off in our new French-registered car into the dark and chilly Autumn evening. We made it about a kilometre down the hill, when the car did something inexcusable. The throttle was suddenly roaring, full on, and smoke was emanating from under the bonnet. We weren't going anywhere. Well, that's not strictly true, as, for some unfathomable* reason, Kevin decided to reverse... at speed... into a ditch. We certainly weren't going anywhere now. We put on the hazard lights and started to walk back up the hill, immersing ourselves into an inky shroud as we turned the corner and left behind the orange winks of the hazards.
After just a minute or so, a car came up the hill and stopped to see if we needed help. We knew it would. They do that in France; there is a wonderful sense of community in this region. I asked the young man to take Kevin to the farm to see if Farmer Joel could help us retrieve the car using his tractor. I continued to walk up the hill alone in pitch darkness, with just the feeble light from my mobile phone to keep me on the road. I arrived home safely, glad for the light from a thousand stars. I'd made a conscious decision not to feel spooked, and I wasn't.**
Presently, local hero Farmer Joel and Kevin arrived, the tractor towing our poor car.
Why has our new car failed us? Now, Kevin has admitted that it is difficult to tell this story without making him out to be an idiot, but he knows that the story must be told as a warning to the fiddlers of the world...
Earlier that day...
The throttle sometimes got stuck, causing the car to suddenly leap forward when it 'caught'. It wasn't a huge problem. However. Kevin decided to have a little look in the 'what I call' throttle box, where he saw that the butterfly flap bit (large tiddlywink) was rubbing a bit on one side. He gave it a little bend, thinking it was metal... and it snapped in two! But we have super strong glue, and it's made of plastic- surely it doesn't receive too much pressure on it? That's what he did. He glued it and put it back. We don't recommend that, should you every experience the same problem with your throttle. Resist the call to fiddle.
After much panic and dismay today, we found a replacement part on e-bay, and that will eventually arrive from Clacton-on-Sea. But we still had to deal with the broken off section, which had disappeared deeper into the engine. Kevin called friends who are mechanics to gather advice. Thanks, Alastair.
The long and the short of this painful saga is that he has just this moment brought the escapee piece to show me, after much delving and unbolting and creative use of my tweezers, a long skewer (which now boasts a swan's neck), very sticky sticky tape, torches and the vacuum cleaner. Hopefully the rest of the car will be able to forget the nasty experience and, once the new butterfly is fitted, we'll be flying.
For now, we're stuck up on our mountain. We have lots of supplies, so we won't starve, but it pains me to report that the one thing we don't have is wine. Oh, and cheese. Or bread flour. French people will read this and understand that this is quite an unbearable situation.
* No, it's still unfathomable...
** Kevin told me today that our neighbours' black horse had been out on the road last night when he came back with Farmer Joel. I'm not sure how I would have coped with the shock of that big black beast unexpectedly looming at me in the blackness! I may have been a tad spooked.
After just a minute or so, a car came up the hill and stopped to see if we needed help. We knew it would. They do that in France; there is a wonderful sense of community in this region. I asked the young man to take Kevin to the farm to see if Farmer Joel could help us retrieve the car using his tractor. I continued to walk up the hill alone in pitch darkness, with just the feeble light from my mobile phone to keep me on the road. I arrived home safely, glad for the light from a thousand stars. I'd made a conscious decision not to feel spooked, and I wasn't.**
Presently, local hero Farmer Joel and Kevin arrived, the tractor towing our poor car.
Why has our new car failed us? Now, Kevin has admitted that it is difficult to tell this story without making him out to be an idiot, but he knows that the story must be told as a warning to the fiddlers of the world...
Earlier that day...
The throttle sometimes got stuck, causing the car to suddenly leap forward when it 'caught'. It wasn't a huge problem. However. Kevin decided to have a little look in the 'what I call' throttle box, where he saw that the butterfly flap bit (large tiddlywink) was rubbing a bit on one side. He gave it a little bend, thinking it was metal... and it snapped in two! But we have super strong glue, and it's made of plastic- surely it doesn't receive too much pressure on it? That's what he did. He glued it and put it back. We don't recommend that, should you every experience the same problem with your throttle. Resist the call to fiddle.
After much panic and dismay today, we found a replacement part on e-bay, and that will eventually arrive from Clacton-on-Sea. But we still had to deal with the broken off section, which had disappeared deeper into the engine. Kevin called friends who are mechanics to gather advice. Thanks, Alastair.
The long and the short of this painful saga is that he has just this moment brought the escapee piece to show me, after much delving and unbolting and creative use of my tweezers, a long skewer (which now boasts a swan's neck), very sticky sticky tape, torches and the vacuum cleaner. Hopefully the rest of the car will be able to forget the nasty experience and, once the new butterfly is fitted, we'll be flying.
For now, we're stuck up on our mountain. We have lots of supplies, so we won't starve, but it pains me to report that the one thing we don't have is wine. Oh, and cheese. Or bread flour. French people will read this and understand that this is quite an unbearable situation.
* No, it's still unfathomable...
** Kevin told me today that our neighbours' black horse had been out on the road last night when he came back with Farmer Joel. I'm not sure how I would have coped with the shock of that big black beast unexpectedly looming at me in the blackness! I may have been a tad spooked.
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