Monday, July 17, 2006
Overtaken by events…
…that’s what I’ve been over the last week or so. Where to start? The magic bus returned after a lengthy absence at the tail end of last week with the bodywork mostly completed (well, the REALLY tricky bits anyway – see picture) but with the new exhaust still sitting in its box inside the van. Not to worry. The MOT certificate certainly seemed a huge step closer.
The newly restored (?) arch...
Ben and I set to work both putting the van’s interior back together and installing – at long last – a three-point rear seat belt for Maisie’s car seat. Much, much, much easier said than done. Having done a bit of research – okay, a load of posts on Club 80-90 – and consulted the diagram in the seatbelt box, I’d managed to locate two of the mounting points but was struggling none too manfully to find the third. There was a hole where all the pictures said there’d be one but it was at least 3mm to small for the diameter of the bolt. No amount of twisting and turning was going to get it through there so, in the absence of a drill bit the right size I opted for the subtle course of action- I looked out my chainsaw!
DIY purists or Health & Safety enthusiasts need not panic; I only got the saw out so I could use one of the round files that comes with it. A bit of sweating – the garden thermometer read 26degress Celsius – later and the bolt went into the hole. The fun was just starting- as I type this my hand still aches with the pain of the lacerations caused by attempting to squeeze my arm in between the mounting point and the outer “wall” of the van.
Unable to get any purchase I had to give it up as a bad job and go into the house for a pot of tea instead. The one purchase I did get came next day when I treated myself to a socket set in order to finish the job. Much wailing and gnashing of teeth later- and ably assisted by Ben (awaiting PIC) I had fitted the belt and even jigsawed out an opening for it on the wall lining panel. Professional or what?
Putting the bed frame and seats back in proved a far simpler task and in no time at all the bus was looking (as) lovely (as it’s possible for it to look) again.
So, wheel arch welded, seatbelts in place, time for the easy bit. The MOT test. Simple enough – down to Glasgow first thing on the Monday morning to the same VW specialist as before, exhaust on, quick MOT test while Ben and I potter about in town and the West End and back to collect the van in time to whizz (ahem) up the A82 in time for the last ferry.
Just reading that, it all sounds far too simple doesn’t it?
In reality, having dropped the van off at the back of ten I thought that no news on the mobile was good news so when I phoned the garage just before four to tell them we were going to head down to collect the van if that was okay I really didn’t expect them to say that, no, it wasn’t okay. The bus had failed its MOT test. Brake flexi hose (front left) knackered, nearside inner sill needing a spot – forgive the pun – of welding and a broken number plate light are I suppose not bad considering the age of the vehicle and the distinct lack of TLC it receives from me.
This would all be bad enough alone if it wasn’t also for the fact that the phrase, “we’ve not been able to get the exhaust bolts off either so it’ll not be ready till late tomorrow, maybe Wednesday,” came swiftly after. Eh? What? “I’ll call you back.”
Panic. What now? 150 miles from home with a toddler and no transport. Why had the garage not called earlier? Did it really need the work done? I called Howie to ask if he thought the bus really did need the welding done. He was out. I called his mobile. Voicemail. Stressed and tired we jumped on the underground then the train to the garage. “You never called back,” I did, I lied, it was just ringing out…anyway, I’ll need to pay you what I owe you so far and just take the van home and get it MOT’d myself, we need to get home. “That seems a bit daft. What if I could give you a car to get you up the road and you can just come back for the van when you’re ready?”
How small did I feel? Taking back the cursing and swearing quietly inside myself I thank that blokey and gratefully took the keys to “the wee silver Golf, just outside the gate.” Excellent. A nippy motor to speed us homewards. Well, a 1.4 M-reg basic model with no radio but, you know, beggars and all that…
As I said, beggars can’t be choosers but my goodness, what a clunky gearbox. Still, it fairly flew up the Loch Lomondside road and if it hadn’t been for a pit stop to visit my dad who was changing trains at Crianlarich – long story – we’d have made that last ferry no bother. Oh well, an extra 50 miles or so, much of it on single track roads, after a long, stressful, hot and sticky day in an unfamiliar car is exactly the sort of thing you want to be doing…
So, along came Wednesday and off we went to collect the van – and what a lovely job they’d made of the exhaust (awaiting PIC) but what a stink as it burned off the protective coating! 250 quid all in and a new MOT test certificate to boot doesn’t seem too bad considering the awful sinking feeling I’d had in my stomach when I’d made that phone call on Monday afternoon.
The new exhaust certainly seems to have made a bit of a difference to the engine performance (is that possible? I don’t know, I’m not technical…) and the van SOUNDS like a proper air-cooled veedub now with that distinctive “fweem.” All that remains now is for us to get it loaded up with some rubbish and bits and bobs and head off for a wee holiday…
