The Prequel
Day -1
So, it's time to get ready for the Atom assault on Andorra. Bags packed? Check. Telepeage sorted? Check. TomTom programmed with routes? Check. GoPro charged? Check. Car sorted and ready to go? Che... oh, hang on... It's 4.30pm and the starter motor has just packed up. This is a disaster. I can't go anywhere without a starter motor unless I park on a hill ever time I stop, so this has to be sorted. Calls to all the local Honda dealers to source a replacement have ended in the frustration of dealing with robot humans tied to computers. The Ariel factory doesn't have them in stock. Even eBay is coming up blank. I'm stuffed. The ferry leaves tomorrow at 12 and I need to be meeting the others at Portsmouth for 11.00.
As always with things petrosexual, I turn to the guru... Bachi has a plan. His engineer, Paul, might be able to help. A few phone calls later and a replacement starter is is on a van to be delivered at 7:00am. Paul will strip out the old starter tonight ready to slip in the new one tomorrow morning and I'll be at the terminal in time. Brilliant!
A Ferrari/Atom convoy to Mile End turns heads from West to East as we drive through town arriving at Paul's at about 8:00pm. Things are looking positive. Fingers crossed and we'll be good to go by 8:15am tomorrow.
Day 0
The travel day. Except my travel starts with a taxi ride to Mile End ready for Paul to fit the starter. It should be straightforward. But when I arrive at Mile End, the gates are shut and there's no one there. A text tells me that Paul has a problem... Disaster has struck as the replacement starter isn't on the delivery... A bit like the bombe surprise/duck in Fawlty Towers, they scrabble all over the order, but it's nowhere to be found. It's not there despite being on the delivery list.
In Eli Wallach-style (see 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly') Paul decides to rebuild a starter from bits of other starters and make one that works. Trouble is, this takes about another hour and a half. by the time Paul returns with the rebuilt motor, it's 10:00. It's going to take at least an hour to install, so I'm buggered. I'm not going to make the ferry.
Plans are investigated. I have two other options open to me - both of which will cost about a grand. I can either go to Eurotunnel and nip over to France then drive 1000 kilometres in the Atom on motorways, stopping for fuel, tolls, and an overnight stop in a hotel or possibly two.
Alternatively, I can get the Eurotunnel, drive 4 hours to Dusseldorf, and put the Atom on the Autozug to Narbonne. But this will mean leaving tomorrow anyway as there's only one train a day at 3:30pm... and cost about a grand.
So I decide to go for the cheaper of the three options and move my booking (£25) to the next sailing - which isn't until Friday evening. Plus, rather than sharing a cabin with Steve, I'll be paying an extra £260 for my own cabin with four berths - none of which will be long enough for me - all to myself. Lovely.
This means that I'll be arriving at Santander at 5:30pm, and then need to get to Andorra. A journey which the map suggests might take up to 7 hours. So I'm going to need a hotel on the way unless I drive through the night. Not a great idea in an Atom in the mountains.
I need to reposition this holiday in my head. It's not a 10 day holiday. It's a 7 day holiday. OK. I can live with that. And it's a step into the unknown, which is good. The best laid plans of mice have gang awry. I should never have trusted the mice to make the plan in the first place.
The rest of day 0 is spent in shock and coming to terms with the reduced holiday.
Day 0 again
This one is a bit of a blank as nothing happens. It's a sitting outside the Nissen Hut in the deckchair day, but at least it's sunny.
So, it's time to get ready for the Atom assault on Andorra. Bags packed? Check. Telepeage sorted? Check. TomTom programmed with routes? Check. GoPro charged? Check. Car sorted and ready to go? Che... oh, hang on... It's 4.30pm and the starter motor has just packed up. This is a disaster. I can't go anywhere without a starter motor unless I park on a hill ever time I stop, so this has to be sorted. Calls to all the local Honda dealers to source a replacement have ended in the frustration of dealing with robot humans tied to computers. The Ariel factory doesn't have them in stock. Even eBay is coming up blank. I'm stuffed. The ferry leaves tomorrow at 12 and I need to be meeting the others at Portsmouth for 11.00.
As always with things petrosexual, I turn to the guru... Bachi has a plan. His engineer, Paul, might be able to help. A few phone calls later and a replacement starter is is on a van to be delivered at 7:00am. Paul will strip out the old starter tonight ready to slip in the new one tomorrow morning and I'll be at the terminal in time. Brilliant!
A Ferrari/Atom convoy to Mile End turns heads from West to East as we drive through town arriving at Paul's at about 8:00pm. Things are looking positive. Fingers crossed and we'll be good to go by 8:15am tomorrow.
Day 0
The travel day. Except my travel starts with a taxi ride to Mile End ready for Paul to fit the starter. It should be straightforward. But when I arrive at Mile End, the gates are shut and there's no one there. A text tells me that Paul has a problem... Disaster has struck as the replacement starter isn't on the delivery... A bit like the bombe surprise/duck in Fawlty Towers, they scrabble all over the order, but it's nowhere to be found. It's not there despite being on the delivery list.
In Eli Wallach-style (see 'The Good, The Bad and The Ugly') Paul decides to rebuild a starter from bits of other starters and make one that works. Trouble is, this takes about another hour and a half. by the time Paul returns with the rebuilt motor, it's 10:00. It's going to take at least an hour to install, so I'm buggered. I'm not going to make the ferry.
Plans are investigated. I have two other options open to me - both of which will cost about a grand. I can either go to Eurotunnel and nip over to France then drive 1000 kilometres in the Atom on motorways, stopping for fuel, tolls, and an overnight stop in a hotel or possibly two.
Alternatively, I can get the Eurotunnel, drive 4 hours to Dusseldorf, and put the Atom on the Autozug to Narbonne. But this will mean leaving tomorrow anyway as there's only one train a day at 3:30pm... and cost about a grand.
So I decide to go for the cheaper of the three options and move my booking (£25) to the next sailing - which isn't until Friday evening. Plus, rather than sharing a cabin with Steve, I'll be paying an extra £260 for my own cabin with four berths - none of which will be long enough for me - all to myself. Lovely.
This means that I'll be arriving at Santander at 5:30pm, and then need to get to Andorra. A journey which the map suggests might take up to 7 hours. So I'm going to need a hotel on the way unless I drive through the night. Not a great idea in an Atom in the mountains.
I need to reposition this holiday in my head. It's not a 10 day holiday. It's a 7 day holiday. OK. I can live with that. And it's a step into the unknown, which is good. The best laid plans of mice have gang awry. I should never have trusted the mice to make the plan in the first place.
The rest of day 0 is spent in shock and coming to terms with the reduced holiday.
Day 0 again
This one is a bit of a blank as nothing happens. It's a sitting outside the Nissen Hut in the deckchair day, but at least it's sunny.
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