Excalibur
20-03-2009, 09:36 PM
That's got to be over the heads of our younger readers, but never mind. :D
A tale told previously elsewhere of a Karaoke gig. How far did I go? 210 miles. Each way. :eek:
Right, a former neighbour bought a hotel in Canonbie. He nagged me for years to do a gig for him, and we fixed a date between Xmas and New Year, Wed 28 Dec. He wanted Karaoke, so I hired the necessary gear. From Hull. Off I go in a ten year old ex BT Transit, and encounter snow. :( Transits of said vintage don't like snow. :( :( I pick up the gear, and head North. At 100 miles, the snow disappears. At 120 miles, so do the windscreen washers. :eek: At 130 miles, I lost the inclination to stop, and do four hours straight driving. :D At 160, a propshaft bearing announced it was ill. Against all odds, I arrived ( late) ate tea, set up gear, had a play with the unfamiliar bits, and did the gig.
After a very slow start ( nothing new there then ;) ) we had a great night. Drink was taken, and I head off to bed with a cheery " I'm sure you'll be fine, we've put you in the room that's haunted. :eek: :eek: Did I sleep well? No. :D
7am, and I'm downstairs, eager to load the gear and head home. Sadly, I'm half an hour ahead of the staff. :( Ah well, eventually it's all in the van, and I enjoy a hearty breakfast. Good job, cos it's about -10 outside, and the handbrake's frozen solid on the van, as I left it on a slope in the night. :bang:
Eventually, after much ado, the return journey commences, and I stop at a garage to replenish my dwindling fuel supply, with the help of my fee. I could also have used a blowtorch, as the fuel cap's frozen too! :eek: :bang: Copous amounts of de-icer work eventually, and I pay for diesel, and some exorbotantly expensive screenwash. :( The pipes are frozen though, and the washers refuse to work. At Penrith, I stop, visit the toilets in a public car park , and pour the contents of my thermos over the pipes to thaw them. Hooray, they work. :D A neighbour rings up for some help. "Where are you ?" he asks. At the answer Penrith, he realises I'm not going to arrive in time to help him. End of phone call. ;) :( Journey resumes, and two miles later, the washers freeze again. :bang:
At the motorway services, I add more fluid, have a coffee, and happily, the engine bay now has enough heat to thaw the pipes. :D :D I use them excessively, to keep them going. Don't need them while I'm stuck in a jam on the motorway for an hour! :bang: :bang: Eventually, there's an open road in front of me, and I'm away with all the speed you can get out of two and a half litres of normally aspirated knackered diesel.
Still, at least, the sun is shining on a bright winter's day though, it's a pleasure to be alive and on the road. Until the M62, when as a change from snow, I encounter freezing fog! :eek: On the journey, I have seen folk boil vehicles, behave like prats/idiots/ lemmings, break every rule in the Highway Code, and generally behave as if they had a personal vendetta against me. Undaunted, I arrive back in Hull, drop off the hire gear, and embark on the final leg of the journey, having at one point previously been less than ten miles from home.
The freezing fog is terrible, the outside of the van looks like Jack Frost has signwritten it, yet in the cabin the driver is in shirtsleeves, with the heater going! Five miles from home, and I've lost the will to live. Memory does the last bit, and I go to bed, for a well deserved rest. :D
And you lot reckon you're specia,l cos you'll travel for an hour to a gig? :confused: Pah, wimps. :p :p :p :p :p :p :p
A tale told previously elsewhere of a Karaoke gig. How far did I go? 210 miles. Each way. :eek:
Right, a former neighbour bought a hotel in Canonbie. He nagged me for years to do a gig for him, and we fixed a date between Xmas and New Year, Wed 28 Dec. He wanted Karaoke, so I hired the necessary gear. From Hull. Off I go in a ten year old ex BT Transit, and encounter snow. :( Transits of said vintage don't like snow. :( :( I pick up the gear, and head North. At 100 miles, the snow disappears. At 120 miles, so do the windscreen washers. :eek: At 130 miles, I lost the inclination to stop, and do four hours straight driving. :D At 160, a propshaft bearing announced it was ill. Against all odds, I arrived ( late) ate tea, set up gear, had a play with the unfamiliar bits, and did the gig.
After a very slow start ( nothing new there then ;) ) we had a great night. Drink was taken, and I head off to bed with a cheery " I'm sure you'll be fine, we've put you in the room that's haunted. :eek: :eek: Did I sleep well? No. :D
7am, and I'm downstairs, eager to load the gear and head home. Sadly, I'm half an hour ahead of the staff. :( Ah well, eventually it's all in the van, and I enjoy a hearty breakfast. Good job, cos it's about -10 outside, and the handbrake's frozen solid on the van, as I left it on a slope in the night. :bang:
Eventually, after much ado, the return journey commences, and I stop at a garage to replenish my dwindling fuel supply, with the help of my fee. I could also have used a blowtorch, as the fuel cap's frozen too! :eek: :bang: Copous amounts of de-icer work eventually, and I pay for diesel, and some exorbotantly expensive screenwash. :( The pipes are frozen though, and the washers refuse to work. At Penrith, I stop, visit the toilets in a public car park , and pour the contents of my thermos over the pipes to thaw them. Hooray, they work. :D A neighbour rings up for some help. "Where are you ?" he asks. At the answer Penrith, he realises I'm not going to arrive in time to help him. End of phone call. ;) :( Journey resumes, and two miles later, the washers freeze again. :bang:
At the motorway services, I add more fluid, have a coffee, and happily, the engine bay now has enough heat to thaw the pipes. :D :D I use them excessively, to keep them going. Don't need them while I'm stuck in a jam on the motorway for an hour! :bang: :bang: Eventually, there's an open road in front of me, and I'm away with all the speed you can get out of two and a half litres of normally aspirated knackered diesel.
Still, at least, the sun is shining on a bright winter's day though, it's a pleasure to be alive and on the road. Until the M62, when as a change from snow, I encounter freezing fog! :eek: On the journey, I have seen folk boil vehicles, behave like prats/idiots/ lemmings, break every rule in the Highway Code, and generally behave as if they had a personal vendetta against me. Undaunted, I arrive back in Hull, drop off the hire gear, and embark on the final leg of the journey, having at one point previously been less than ten miles from home.
The freezing fog is terrible, the outside of the van looks like Jack Frost has signwritten it, yet in the cabin the driver is in shirtsleeves, with the heater going! Five miles from home, and I've lost the will to live. Memory does the last bit, and I go to bed, for a well deserved rest. :D
And you lot reckon you're specia,l cos you'll travel for an hour to a gig? :confused: Pah, wimps. :p :p :p :p :p :p :p