Before we moved to where we live now in Cambridge, we lived just outside Cambridge proper. I went to a local garage there because I didn’t want to go to the Peugeot one because they were expensive and not the best. When we moved, I continued to go to that garage, even though it’s a hassle to get there without a car from here.

I have become increasingly dissatisfied with the service of late, with many things having to go back at least twice before they’re fixed. The people are really nice, though, so I haven’t said anything, and I’m also a wuss.

I took Henry to them recently to fix a clunky knocking noise from somewhere down by my feet, and they said it was some wires in the steering column, which they fixed, but they said that there was a deposit around the ignition that shouldn’t be there; I’d need a new ignition switch. Baulking at the cost of that (I didn’t inquire, thinking it would be tonnes of pennies) and the delay in getting one that would work with the immobiliser, I decided not to get one, although it’s been preying on my mind. When I drove away with Henry, I heard the knocking noise again as I pulled away from the roundabout. I was not happy – what had I actually paid them all that money for, exactly?!

That was the last straw. When said garage sent me a reminder about Henry needing a service recently, I decided that was it and I was going to find a new one to go to. I put that off somewhat, until there came a sloshing noise from somewhere down by my feet. That sounded really quite dodgy indeed, even worse than the knocking noise. I still put it off, though. I just didn’t drive anywhere. But this weekend, I’m driving northwards and need Henry to not be at risk of conking out on the A1 because that’s not fun. Time to stop procrastinating.

I got the Yellow Pages out on Monday and found a garage nearby, and booked Henry in for a full service and a repair job. He’s getting a full service because I have lost so much faith in the original garage that I need someone else to see what travesties have been performed under his bonnet.

The man seemed to know what he was talking about, and seemed familiar with Henry-type cars. He explained what was probably causing the knocking noise and the sloshing noise. The latter is the flutes in the inside radiator and not a serious problem; the former is the drive shaft and will not be cheap to fix. Still, it’s gotta be done. Hopefully by Friday; if not, I’ll get a courtesy car.

Courtesy cars are fun. Last time, I got a Korean one with the indicator and windscreen wiper stalks swapped. By the time I’d driven up to the north east and back, I’d almost stopped wiping my windows at roundabouts and indicating when it was raining. When I got Henry back, I went through it all again, with several moments of doubt as to which one was which.

Tell the world about this!

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categories: Travel
tags: breaking things, Henry, mending things, rants