Fully charged
No, even though this post has a car in it, and a headline that suggests charging by an electric current, the vehicle in question is powered neither by batteries or a battery/fuel mix. My 1994 Volkswagen Polo GT has been having starting problems of late caused by a flat battery, but now normal service has resumed with a new unit bought from German Swedish and French car parts.
Bought and fitted eventually, that is. The first one I brought home was physically too big for the hole, tucked away in the top left-hand corner of the little VW’s engine bay. Not the easiest place to get to thanks to the intrusion of the brake servo (lacking on early cars, resulting in a much easier fit process thanks to the larger opening), it was clear the new battery wasn’t going to go in, so it went back.
After a dispute with one member of staff in the shop who was adamant it would fit (it was two inches too long – I’ve had the car 10 years, so I should know what fits), it transpired that the new unit I had taken back had been labelled with the wrong part number at branch level, so was swapped out for one which not only looked right, but (surprise, surprise) did actually fit.
Once in place, it ended the two-week power drought which two failed charging periods had failed to resolve. It means that I can now obviously drive the car, owing Nik several journeys where he has had to abstain from the alcoholic stuff, as I had no means of driving him. The no-go resolve came at the right time, too; I wanted the car for Stanford Hall, to give it a run out, as it barely gets used these days.
So, Saturday afternoon and early evening were spent cleaning, polishing, vacuuming, and finessing the GT for the day that lay the other side of a good night’s sleep. My acute obssessiveness must have worked; Derek from next-door came out of the house and congratulated me on how good the old car looked. I was pleased, as a few hours’ cleaning had stripped time off the 15 year-old, 157,000-mile body.
I could have spent even longer on it if I’d wanted to, but one of the joys of not using it that much means that the Polo is still in not too bad a condition for its age, even though it’s not garaged. That wasn’t true of me, though, on Saturday night; exhausted but happy, but certainly not as fully charged as I was at the start of the day. There were a few complimentary looks at Lutterworth on Sunday, though, so all the effort was appreciated.
No, even though this post has a car in it, and a headline that suggests charging by an electric current, the vehicle in question is powered neither by batteries or a battery/fuel mix. My 1994 Volkswagen Polo GT has been having starting problems of late caused by a flat battery, but now normal service has resumed with a new unit bought from German Swedish and French car parts.
Bought and fitted eventually, that is. The first one I brought home was physically too big for the hole, tucked away in the top left-hand corner of the little VW’s engine bay. Not the easiest place to get to thanks to the intrusion of the brake servo (lacking on early cars, resulting in a much easier fit process thanks to the larger opening), it was clear the new battery wasn’t going to go in, so it went back.
After a dispute with one member of staff in the shop who was adamant it would fit (it was two inches too long – I’ve had the car 10 years, so I should know what fits), it transpired that the new unit I had taken back had been labelled with the wrong part number at branch level, so was swapped out for one which not only looked right, but (surprise, surprise) did actually fit.
Once in place, it ended the two-week power drought which two failed charging periods had failed to resolve. It means that I can now obviously drive the car, owing Nik several journeys where he has had to abstain from the alcoholic stuff, as I had no means of driving him. The no-go resolve came at the right time, too; I wanted the car for Stanford Hall, to give it a run out, as it barely gets used these days.
So, Saturday afternoon and early evening were spent cleaning, polishing, vacuuming, and finessing the GT for the day that lay the other side of a good night’s sleep. My acute obssessiveness must have worked; Derek from next-door came out of the house and congratulated me on how good the old car looked. I was pleased, as a few hours’ cleaning had stripped time off the 15 year-old, 157,000-mile body.
I could have spent even longer on it if I’d wanted to, but one of the joys of not using it that much means that the Polo is still in not too bad a condition for its age, even though it’s not garaged. That wasn’t true of me, though, on Saturday night; exhausted but happy, but certainly not as fully charged as I was at the start of the day. There were a few complimentary looks at Lutterworth on Sunday, though, so all the effort was appreciated.
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