Nothing really prepares us for the wet weather we experience during the early spring. Quite extraordinary - but it's now mid June and, although spasmodical, we are experiencing some delightful days of spring sunshine at last. It's time for spring cleaning and painting.
This posting is mostly about our beloved Deux Chevaux, Dodosh, whatever you like to call it (our 2cv Van ). We call her "Mange Toot" and I bought her off a rather shady dealer some 12 years ago near Framlingham, Suffolk, who in turn had bought her as a wreck somewhere in France where she was first registered in 1975.
She was a birthday present to Lucie and in those early days with us, she was the Tastebuds Shop Van, smartly promoting our business on both her sides and on her rear doors.
When one scratches through the paintwork - and there's still plenty - it appears that she has been painted blue, then red and then green, several times throughout her long life to-date. Now she is practically held together by a thick layer of green paint and looking, I have to say, very smart indeed.
Back in her homeland, and residing happily in the Port de Meilhan , she is, on the whole, the envy of those who see her and admired by all - especially the French. However there is some well practiced derision from certain quarters who need not be named - they know who they are!
"Team derision", as I call them, have had quite a bit to laugh at recently. For a start, Mange Toot has shown some, let's say, characterful electrical imagination and some confusion over brake lights and indicators - deciding which should work, when, and in what order.
Last month for instance, as an important member of "Team Derision" walked past her in the car park, her headlights flashed on and off. No-one was inside her - and I was a witness to it!
How spooky is that?
Then there was the matter of the sudden leakage of the fuel tank full of petrol, over Mike's car park which only happened at night and on two separate occasions, both times - just after Lucie had filled her tank up to the top with precious fuel.
"That petrol was worth more than the car" - Says a senior member of "Team Derision" - rather predictably I thought.
More seriously, despite the rust, Isopon repairs, hand painting - racing green bodywork and maroon wheel hubs and headlamps - the all precious chassis is good - as indeed is the engine - or so I believed.
We both become aware of a rather sinister knocking noise coming from underneath her bonnet - it becomes worse as time passes. Everyone excepting me seems to know what is causing it. I thought that I knew my car well but....
Oh no! "It's the crank shaft says one garage" without thinking too hard. Another does more by adjusting the tappets without success.
It's "piston slap" says a close American friend. What would he - a Chevrolet Jeep driver - know about 2CV's? Oh please!
Of course "Team Derision" start early. Speculation is rife, about putting new engines into old bodies (as in old wine into new bottles) and other frightfully expensive options.
One member offers "to take it off our hands".
We are all but convinced that there might only be one option - yes, a new engine or worse, a new car. Then, last week, I park her (considerately I thought) near to the rubbish bins - my normal place is occupied. I return later to find a notice stuck under her wipers which reads:
"Thanks for thoughtfully parking this vehicle by the bins and safely away from the office but, regrettably, the bin men refused to take it!" -
"Team Derision" strikes again!
You can take all this stoically and upon the chin for so long especially if you're British - stiff upper lip and all that - but the truth is that most people who own these old treasures suffer the same impediment to their decision making process. It's called anthropomorphism. That is to say, such is ones highly personal relationship, the affection that one develops with ones' car, betrayal would be akin to selling ones' own Granny.
We spend several weeks worrying about this problem, driving her gently and only when necessary, until one day, quite by chance, the lady who sells us farm fresh fruit and vegetables asks Lucie "what's up?". Lucie is clearly thinking apprehensively about the intractable problem that we have.
She reveals all to the veg lady whilst piping her eye.
"There there" says the good lady "I know just the chap who will fix your problem" . She's had really good reports from two of her other clients - also 2cv owners. His name is so -and- so.....
He is a new business, a nice kind chap we find and he really knows his stuff it seems.
"Leave it with me and I'll phone you within 24 hours" says he, after casting an expert's eye upon the patient. We receive a call from him as promised -
"you need to sit down" says he to Lucie rather gravely - all in French.
"I have found the problem and the new part, a small washer, will cost you.... ten cents and my labour, fifty Euros".
To say we are relieved is an enormous understatement. We rush to fetch her still not believing our luck. But it's true. She is cured and going better than ever before in our twelve years ownership. What is even more commendable, this genius of a man rings us the next day to check that everything is OK. Now, that is service.
We gleefully overtake a moped as we drive her home. We laugh a lot. Everyone else laughs too. But there you go, that's how it is with 2cvs although - it really ain't all plain sailing, y'know!