It started off well, the overnight rain hadn’t found its’ way
into the car, so the roof came off & after breakfast we said
farewell to Duncan & Alison who were heading home for a family
celebration & au revoir to Mark who was spending the day seeing
the sights of Ilfracombe – yes I did warn him about the Damian
Hurst sculpture “Verity” – after all he may want some lunch
during the day.
We decided to go west, so only five cars headed out of town
heading for Cornshire & we found ourselves on a lane with “ROAD
AHEAD CLOSED” signs, I’ve never understood the point of these
signs unless they say where it’s closed. We rumbled on
though many pretty hamlets & past many more such signs &
eventually after perhaps eight miles we did find a road that was
closed, but not on our route. We seemed to get through Barnstaple
easier than yesterday & got out into the countryside, but all was
not well.
In a village, as I pulled in to let a vehicle pass, there
was a small thud noise, barely audible, but I thought I’d felt it
through the chassis. I decided it was probably just a pop though the
exhaust as it had started doing that again recently. But as we
travelled on it did it again & again, then I was hearing it
properly. I wondered if a suspension bolt had loosened, but bouncing
the car up & down in the “Buffing Billy café” car park
showed no sign of clonking, so we moved on. It was still getting
worse, so I pulled into a layby on the A39 & looked underneath,
axle oil was dripping from the nearside end, I took the wheel off,
but all the bolts were tight, something had failed in the bearing I
had fitted less than a year ago.
I would be going home on a truck.
I thought if I could limp the car
back to the hotel I could passenge with someone for a day &
organise a truck for the Saturday, so Ken (who had given up his blatt
to stay with me) & I turned round & trundled up the A39 at 30 getting
in everyone’s way (sorry I we held you up) but all the time the
noise was getting worse, the worrying thing being that it wasn’t
constant, it was horribly mechanical, then it was disappeared, then
it was horrible again, so after a few miles I pulled into a layby &
called for a lorry. To their credit they didn’t send a man in a
small van to assess it, they just sent a low loader with a promise of
60 – 90 minutes. But after an hour & a half, of a lorry there
was no sign.
At one stage a recovery truck went past with a graphic of a Cobra on the side, I said to Ken "that one would be appropriate", but it didn't stop. When I called again for an update I was told there had been an accident up the road & that had
taken precedence. After another hour I called the dispatcher, to be
told my rescuer “was a few minutes away” which to be fair he was
– but on the other side of the A39 & it was ten miles & two
sets of road works to the next junction to turn around.
While I had been waiting, the bank
called me to say my credit card had been used fraudulently, though I
wasn’t convinced it actually was the bank as it was all “a bit
odd”.
So eventually I was picked up after
three hours by the truck with the Cobra on the side & Ken went back to the hotel. I have to say the truck
itself was very nice, air suspension & all very comfy as far as
it went.
But as far as it went was Taunton Dean services.
I would
have to await another lorry, then I got a text message saying the
other lorry would be 2hrs 20min – just long enough to need to pay
£15 for parking via an app that I didn’t have. I waited 1 ½ hours
in case the truck arrived early – no chance of course & it then
took me the thick end of an hour to get the app & pay for the
parking.
The next low
loader arrived at the promised time. It was not like the first one.
It was older than my Cactus & pitched, heaved & crashed over
the slightest ripple in the road, but I was on my way.
Three hours
later I arrived home, ten hours after calling for help. I put the car
in the garage & retired to bed.