Tuesday, March 10, 2009

in praise of the RAC

Current work: nonfic and medical romance
Listening to: Corelli
Reading: (still no chance to read)

School run was fine today until the journey home, when a warning light on the dashboard began flashing. Car was feeling juddery and the rev counter wasn’t what it normally is. Uh-oh. Ill car. Made it home, and as soon as I opened the car door I could smell burning. Not good. Frantically looked up car manual. Toxic fume filter? Eh, what? ‘If the light flashes, reduce speed until it stops flashing.’ Hmm: I was stationary at traffic lights. How could I reduce speed? Not possible. Am not mechanically minded, so rang Renault dealer and squeaked. They told me to ring assistance company, who may be able to fix it – otherwise, bring car in.

The RAC were brilliant. Very helpful on the phone, told me when they’d be here, arrived dead on time. The RAC man was lovely; he diagnosed the problem (misfiring spark plug) but couldn’t fix it because of the way the engine is put together. So he took out the fuel injection from the problem spark plug and followed me in to the Renault dealer. Should be a warranty job: nothing to worry about.

Small problem: it’s 4 miles to daughter’s school, 4 miles from hers to son’s, and 4 miles home again. (Yes, I know. I am a bad person who should have sent my kids to the local school or moved house. Sorry. Am selfish and exercised parental choice over their education. I also happen to like my house and my neighbours and the view, and don’t want to move.) So either I have to borrow DH’s car (which is huge and I’ve never driven it before - and DH is not well enough to do the school run for me) or hope that Renault can fix my car before 2.30 so I have time to get to school. And it absolutely must be done before Thursday as I have an important meeting (concerning Dad) and there is no public transport.

Hmm. If car is starting to have trouble, maybe I should change it this year before it has to have its first MOT. Ha. Can taunt DH with the prospect of a pink car. (Is my car. I pay for it. If I want pink...) (Yes, I know it will affect the resale value, so I will be sensible. We’ll have the other argument instead: does it have to be a Clio? To which my answer is, any car would have to be exceptional to get me to change from a Clio.)


Jan Jones said...

Kate, lovey, I don't think they make a pink clio. That's why my clio's a nice dark red. And no, I wouldn't change make either.

Rachel said...

Dear Kate,

hope they can fix it quick!! Had similar problems with my Renault last year and it was the ignition pack that had gone(required it to be rigged up for some sort of computer diagnostics) but it was fixed pretty quickly and in time for the school run!

However, fear not DH's big car. My first car was the smallest ever, a bright yellow Fiat Cinquecento which I loved but it had to go when the children's legs outgrew the back seat. I was utterly terrified the first time I climbed (up) into the Renault Scenic and developed a form of RSI from gripping the wheel so hard in the first week! But I wouldn't go back now, you're up higher so you can all see more and it feels a lot safer when you're up next to huge lorries. Bags of luggage space too.

But I must confess to being a complete weed when it comes to parallel parking though!

Fingers crossed for a speedy outcome!


Lacey Devlin said...

It's very important to like your neighbors! I would have stayed too :)