Where do I start...

It all started with a bid on eBay for a 10 ft caravan that I really didn't think I would win. But when you least expect it, along comes life and chews on ya butt! Sitting on my favourite lounge chair I checked my email and guess what, I had won it so I casually leant over and said to Barb "We own a caravan!" with a smile on my face. Well that was wiped off really fast. I start to think that maybe she didn't want a caravan, nah she wants it but just doesn't want me to know and it was a good time to make me squirm a bit. So a silence follows while I wait for the next thing to happen. After a good half hour nothing, now I'm sweating and have clammy hands. I'm saying to myself, say something this quiet is killing me. Well everything seemed ok or Barb had decided to leave the idiot alone. Silence nice,now I can get to work and organise the pick up.

It's at Canberra so I organise the pickup arrangements by phone and for the next Saturday I decided to use Brandy (one of my Kombis) because she seemed ok after a set of plugs and leads had been recently installed. Come Saturday and I'm off at 5.30am and Brandy is running like she use to and the trip was great going down. I was using a GPS so I went straight to the bloke selling the caravan. We walked and chattered about VWs and caravans for about an hour and it was time to go home. I hooked it up and smiling, off I went back onto the highway with the caravan not bothering Brandy at all...UNTIL a few kilometres on I hear a big bang. I pretty much knew what it was and only confirmed my suspicion upon inspecting the engine bay. A bloody plug had been blown out of number 1 and taken the thread with it. Now I think to myself, WHY ME, I suppose I must really piss the big boy off or something! Well after taking the plug and lead off I start now looking at completing the trip home on 3 cylinders. Oh the joy the joy... I thought I would try crying but that didn't help, cursing didn't help either but slamming my fingers in the door took my mind off it for a few hours! Four hours later I was running out of fingers and I only had a dangly bit left worth slamming in a door.

Now I know that Canberra is only 3 hours away but after four hours I had not made it to Goulburn as I had to stop every half hour and let Brandy rest and cool down. Five hours later I was at Goulburn. You know there is a need for a sandwich that will help people having bad days, something like a Vallejo sandwich with a morpheme mocha. Did I ever need one, I sure did! Well I saddled up and crawled out of Goulburn and pointed her nose for home. I needed 2 more stops before the weighbridges. Now I know it's nearly all hills before sky line and sure enough it takes me another 2 hours to reach it. I thought it would be ok from here but nooooooo nothing changed.  A slow slog to the Pheasant's Nest service station where I decided to dump the caravan and struggle home in Brandy and pick up the caravan next day with Slim (my other Kombi). So a plan was made and I told the service station attendant that I would be the only one picking it up and to shoot anybody else or call the police (I let her decide) if anyone else approached the caravan.

As usually happens when you are sobbing you eyes out, some idiot will ask if you are alright so I tell him my sad tale. Then I had company sobbing as his dog did a runner chasing another dog and ripped  the skin of his forearm like peeling a sausage skin! Well I tried to start Brandy and nothing, tried again nothing, now I was stumped. I was determined to get home with either the Kombi or the caravan. Then old bloke with the skinned arm said I'll run you home. Now we didn't know another from dirt and I thanked him for the offer and said,  one more try starting stinky (Brandy). And guess what, she started!! So with a wave and a hysterical laugh started the last leg of my adventure.

Well I made it home in darkness and it had taken me 9 hours and I still needed to get the caravan home the next morning!!

Steve