Where is it?

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Almost exactly nine years ago our middle-aged Saab automobile developed a fatal error. To repair it, we would have had to pay more than our car was worth. As our vehicle had other problems likely to occur, we sold our Saab to a scrap dealer. Living in the centre of London meant that we used our car usually not more than twice a month. So, we decided to start life without a car of our own. We felt it would be more sensible to use public transport, cabs, and to rent a car when we wanted one for trips away from London.

On one occasion, we were going to make a trip to north Yorkshire. We hired a car from an office based at Heathrow Airport. When I arrived at the office, I expressed a preference for a diesel model. The only diesel-fuelled car available was a large Vauxhall estate car. As it was offered to me at the same price as a smaller petrol-driven car, I hired it. 

I crossed the small car park to where ‘my’ vehicle was parked and entered the Vauxhall. By the way, did you know that the Russian word for railway station is вокзал (‘voksal’) and is derived from London’s ‘Vauxhall’ (see: https://londonist.com/2015/10/vokzal). I digress. I sat down in the driver’s seat, and turned the ignition key. A lamp on the dashboard indicated that the handbrake was active. But where was the hand brake? There was no lever to operate as in many other cars. Then I remembered that some Mercedes had a handbrake release near the foot pedals (see: https://adam-yamey-writes.com/2018/11/19/its-enough-to-drive-you-around-the-benz/ ). I looked around the foot pedal area, but saw nothing other than the foot pedals – no handbrake release mechanism. I turned off the car’s engine, and walked back to the car hire office.

Sheepishly, I entered and approached the charming young ladies sitting behind the counter.

“How can I help you sir,” I was asked.

“I know this sounds silly, but I cannot figure out how the handbrake works.”

“Oh that’s simple, sir”, came the reply, “There’s a small button on the armrest close to the gear change stick. By pushing that you can operate the handbrake.”

I returned to the car and found the small button, square and not much larger than a face of a dice. 

It is amazing that car hire companies are happy to rent customers almost brand new cars without leaving an instruction manual or providing essential advice. In another article I will describe another incident of renting a car without having been given essential instructions. Watch this space! 

 

Picture source: http://www.daraz.com.bd

Auto-biography

BAVARIA 87 Between Braunau and Munich Volvo

 

I passed my driving test in mid-1982, shortly after qualifying as a dentist. Like many dentists I have met, I went through a phase of fascination with cars.

My first car was second-hand. I was advised to buy something not to expensive just in case during my first months on the road I was to have had an accident. I bought an Austin Allegro from a local dealer. It seemed in great condition given its low price. However, it had at least one annoying defect: it would stop suddenly without warning. This defect was due to a loose connection in the ignition system.  After a very few months, the car began emitting blue smoke from its exhaust. This was due to some major defect in the engine, which would have cost more to repair than the car itself. When I confronted the dealer, who had sold me the Allegro, he reccommended that I bought a new car. I told him that I was not happy with his response because I had had the car for such a short time.

A local garage did something temporary to the engine to improve its part-exchange value, but also advised me to obtain another vehicle. To my great surprise, the local VW dealer offered me a very good part exchange price if I bought a VW. I bought a VW Polo Formel E. This was not a car for using on the Formula One racetracks, but a comfortable, very easy to drive, practical small car. The ‘Formel E’ related to the fact that the car had a gear setting that allowed low fuel consumotion. This car served me well and would have kept on going for many years, but I had my eyes on owning a Volvo.

The first Volvo I bought was a Volvo 340, a descendant of the Dutch DAF models. Like the Allegro, mine had a persistent problem. It also stopped suddenly and without warning. Despite many visits to the local Volvo dealer, no one could solve the problem. Eventually, Volvo recalled my car for a modification to rectify a design fault in the carburettor. After that, the 340 behaved well and survived a rear end shunt with very little damage. My lust for another car sent me back to the car showrooms after about two years.

I bought a Volvo 240 estate car. Though enormous and looking aerodynamically inefficient, this car was superb. It handled as easily as my relatively tiny VW Polo had done, and it could fly along if speed was needed. Once on the autobahn in West Germany, I managed to move the car at 105 mph uphill, and even then my foot had not completely pressed the accelerator pedal to its fullest extent.  This spacious, easily manoevrable car carried me right across Europe from Kent to Belgrade, and on another trip from Kent to Budapest. Why I traded in this Volvo 240 for a newer Volvo 240, I cannot recall. Both 240s were excellent, but a new model of Volvo had arrive on the market place.

I part exchanged my perfectly good Volvo 240 estate for a brand new Volvo 850 saloon. This was a complete disappointment after the 240 models. It looked good by Volvo standards but was not pleasurable to drive. When I took it to a Volvo dealer a couple of years later, I was offered a pathetic part-exchange price against a new Volvo. I was told that the 850 did not sell well second-hand.

Very disappointed with Volvo, I rang the local Saab dealership. When they learned my wife was pregnant, they offered to bring a model of the Saab (in our price range) to our home so that I could take it for a test-drive. As soon as I sat in the driving seat, I knew that we had to own a Saab. We bought a Saab 900, which lasted us well for a few years, and would have lasted us much longer had we not decided to trade it in for a newer model before its resale price dropped too far. We bought a Saab 9-3, which sadly lacked some of the quality of the first Saab we owned. 

Ten years ago, we set out to attend our friends’ golden wedding anniversary party in rural Kent. Before leaving London, we replaced our four tires as required after we had the results of our car’s official car inspection (MOT test). We arrived early and decided to visit a bonsai nursery that we had seen a few years earlier. When we returned to the car, ready to drive to the party, I turned the ignition key and all that happened was a grinding noise from the engine. We called the AA (roadside assistance), who arrived quickly. The engineer looked at the enging and discovered that the fan belt had slipped off its mountings. Worse than that, one of the parts of the engine thatrelied on the fan belt had a severely distorted metal part. We asked the enginner roughly how much it would cost to repair the fault. He said he thought it would be at least £300.

Now, when I had last visited the Saab garage, I had asked for a part-exchange quote for our now ageing car. I was told that £400 would be generous. Consequently, we decided not to replace the car, but to sell it to scrap dealers, who gave us a paltry sum for it. Since then, we have not owned an auto, and life has been, surprisingly, less stressful.

You may be wondering how we reached the party. The kind AA engineer took us to a local car hire place, and we picked up a car (paid for by the AA as part of our membership plan), and arrived quite late at the party.