25th July 2011

Our car has just failed its Mot and the mechanic at our local garage says he won't be able to repair it.
That's the trouble with these computerized Renault Meganes, he says, when it's a big job, only Renault garages can fix it....
And a big job it is. 
Apparently, the Turbo has gone. The clutch is not far behind and then there's the matter of the oil leak...  You see, they're all inter related. When one goes, the rest follows....  
        
My significant other researches online if it is going to be expensive to repair.
It is.
We deliberate about what to do next.
With the price of petrol continuing to go up it seems sensible to downsize to a little hatchback.
We also don't do as much driving as we used to. As the current Mot has only days left on it, we'll need to move quite quickly. This of course, is easier said than done but we manage to drive out to Seafield on the Wednesday, where scores of garages are located.

The first car showroom we stumble upon is Arnold Clark's.
Our very first car came from A C's, it was an ugly little mini Clubman estate but it did us well until it was stolen in Ferguslie Park in Paisley, and rammed deep into to the mud in a field nearby. That was the end of it, it never started again and could not be repaired.
Most of our second hand cars over the years have followed a similar fate. Either written off in minor accidents or breaking down irreparably at the side of a road somewhere, resigned to being picked up by a scrap merchants.

The salesman at AC's looks us up and down and asks what we're planning to spend on our next car.
About £3000? He doesn't think they'll have anything in that price range, maybe we should try GM motors down the road where they may be able to help us.
From the look on his face it is clear he thinks we are beyond help and certainly not worth entertaining for longer than is absolutely necessary.
By this time my dear husband is squirming uncomfortably.
It doesn't help that it is a very hot day. Ian hates change. He also hates making decisions. The time factor means pressure.
He suggests we go home and come back tomorrow. I point out we should use the time we have as we're here now.

So, minutes later, we drive into a large retail park. A veritable glut of garages here! Alas no parking. No parking at all. And no room to swing a cat.
Ian has to reverse the Megane several times. Looking out of the window I spy a large advert. No deposit and 0% interest over 5 years on all Vauxhalls....
Ian is having none of it. And due to the lack of parking we find ourselves back on the main road again. Remains GM moters. Ian is demoralized now. I can see he's rather do anything than search for a car but he agrees to have a quick look. There is parking, thank goodness.

How does one look for a second hand car? We saunter past rows of pristine looking vehicles. The prices and mileage are prominently displayed behind the front wind screens. There are plenty in our price range. Ian suggests we go for something that is quite old looking 'as we are not very good at keeping our cars clean..' Now it's my turn to get exasperated. I have never understood male reasoning.
A cheery salesman sidles up. Yes, he has plenty of nice little hatchbacks. Yes, he'll do part exchange and which is our car? Yes, he'll have a look and tell us what he'll give us for it. We like the Corsa? Why not have a little spin in it? No, no details needed, we have honest faces, ha ha. Yes, here's the key and he'll see us shortly. 
So we find ourselves turning back into the busy main road in the Corsa. It is a strange experience to be so low down in a car. It's almost like sitting on the road itself. A little scary after what we've become used to. We turn into a quieter road. I get a turn to drive. I stall the car. We swap seats again.
The cheery sales man greets us with the news that he'll give us £1500 for our old car if we decide to buy the Corsa. I suspect the Corsa must be worse than it seems if he is so keen to get rid of it. We promise we will be back once we decide.
As I suspected would happen, Ian is now racked with guilt at getting money in part exchange for what is, essentially, a pig in a poke. I try and convince him that the Corsa is so over priced in the first place, that the £1500 off brings it to its actual value. Ian is not convinced.
It takes two days of much deliberating and angsting before he is ready to go back to Seafield. Only, by this time, he's looked up what will happen to the Megane if we keep driving it.
Lawdy! This is serious.
There are pages of discussion dedicated to just this on the Internet.
It turns out, the car will first of all start to struggle with hills. Then it will suddenly speed up to 95 miles an hour and being computerized will not be stopped.
Ian assures me, getting technical, that it will then start taking its own oil for fuel. He reads out some of the postings online.
I couldn't get away at the traffic lights and all the cars tooted at me. Then all of a sudden, my Megane roared away and overtook all the others, I couldn't make it stop!
At this point, it sounds to me this guy's car has an anger problem rather than a Turbo problem. But no, he goes on to say that when he has the presence of mind to put the gear into neutral and bring the car to a halt, the revving goes on till, bang, the engine explodes.
Deary me, now I'm spooked.
Other people back up what he says and, the worst thing is, it is only a matter of time!
I decide to risk it and take the car on a couple of short journeys. I have, after all, just put £20 worth of diesel in it.
But we will need to do something. Only 2 days left now and we won't be legally allowed to drive the tank anymore...
The 0% interest offer seems more attractive to me by the minute.
I try and convince Ian that the £1500 we can expect for the tank will pay for more than a years payments and the £3000 we would spend on another old car full of hidden problems would pay for the next two.
Instead of being at square one again after 3 years and having to find another old car for about £3000, we'll have a good car with only £3120 left to pay off. He is perplexed by my logic and not impressed.

There are more stories of exploding engines though and just to be safe he books a car to take him to the funeral he has to conduct on Saturday. Then we can go and take the Megane on its final journey to Seafield. Ian is adamant though, he'll have to tell whoever it is we'll buy our next car from, exactly what is wrong with it. I comfort myself with the thought that this a man of integrity and I'm lucky to have him.
He's lucky to have me too as he'll soon be driving a brand new Vauxhall which is going to save us money and hassle over the next five years.
Now let's just hope the engine doesn't actually blow up on the way there tomorrow.....