The End Of The Affair

My GT-R is screwed. On the way to get it service on Saturday, the gearbox went. It could only find 2nd, 4th, and 6th. I stopped for a few minutes, hoping it would fix itself, but when I started out again, it was even worse, causing me to have to restart it every time I came to a complete stop. I had to wait three hours for a tow truck, but at least it was covered by the RAC. By the time I got to the dealership, they didn't have enough time to find out what was wrong. The next problem was getting home. I'd have to wait around an hour and a half for a taxi to the railway station, take an hour's walk to the local station which only gets one train an hour, and who knows how long the bus to Bournemouth station would take. Luckily, Paul was my hero, and was able to come and collect me from the dealership.

Today I receive a call from the mechanic, and it's all my worst fears. They need to replace the whole gearbox, and that will cost up to £25,000. But he was kind enough to tell me that Litchfield tuners near Gloucester are able to buy individual parts for the car, and due to being the preeminent GT-R specialists in the country, they could fix it much much cheaper. It will still be thousands, but hopefully not as much as what the dealer wants for the whole 'box. I'm really thinking of selling it, but I can't until I fix this problem.

But hey: random strangers in the petrol station forecourt compliment the car, so it's got that going for it. Which is nice.

Gearbox Trouble

My stewardship of the GT-R might be coming to an end. While reversing it in the garage this past Wednesday, the car just stopped. The engine was still running, and it could go forwards, but reverse just wouldn't go. I stopped the car, waited 45 minutes, and tried it again. This time it all went smoothly. Luckily I'm taking it to be serviced this Saturday, but repairs possibly costing up to five figures, I'm thinking about selling it. At least I've had my fun.

So Much For That

I was supposed to be back in London, but as usual, life has other plans.

The Underground has temporarily shut down the lines I need to get to the hotel. On top of that, the trains were delayed today and tomorrow, due to engineering works. Which I was prepared for, but when I got as far as Southampton, they just outright cancelled the trains, after being sat on the platform for half an hour, due to a fire on the line.

I gave up and went home. Who knows what time I would have made it to London. It's 6:20 in the evening, and they're still cancelling trains now. Not sure I want to be in a plague incubator for that amount of time, with the world the way it is at the moment. Then I tried to get a refund for the hotel I had booked for tonight. But they are playing hardball, so it looks like I won't get any money back. What a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Remember the days I used to walk to Miami Beach on a Sunday, get fried chicken on the way home, and watch the sunset from The Standard hotel pool? Yeah, I remember those days too.