The bike seems to be running really sweet and is fair galloping along. Mileage today is set to be 150 miles which seems a lot, but is so much easier on uncongested roads.. The most danger is seem to be in from the day is when someone trys to reverse over me whilst I'm sitting having a mid morning coffee at a little cafe on a square.
The countryside between Boulogne and Paris is really charming as it crosses the battlefields of the Somme, gently rolling hills with lush farmland and acres of mature woodland.
Came across the starngest re-enactment of some military manoevres harking back to the time of Madame Guillotine based upon the costumes worn. Two squads of men were being exercised along the side of the road, one set of which at one point all fired a musket round over the road, where I was watching. Presume they were blanks, but it sounded realistic enough.
Twenty five miles out of Paris, I stopped once again to refuel and parked up for a ten minute break. AAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHH. The bike refused to start yet again. I thought that I would test for evidence of a spark and broke the cap off the cable that fits on the plug.
Perhaps this has been part of the problem all along. Intermittent fault caused by corroding cap and wire. I was still in the garage where I had filled up, so took the broken end into monsieur mechanic, who pronounced the fitting as merde. Then like some crazed lunatic he tore the other end away from the coil, pronouncing this as merde as well. I had to agree with him, and was just eager to dissuade him fro butchering anything else. He then produced some other fittings from the workshop and using reams of insulating tape bodged together a new lead, charging me 10 euros in the process.
This bodge lasted me to Paris, where it fell apart. At least I now knew what the problem was. At nine pm I called the RAC who despatched their finest. Two hours later Serge turned up on a relay truck complete with two cars and their passengers in tow. Unlike British Breakdown services apparently 90% of waht they do is removing the vehicle and towing them to the nearest garage. He was ill equipped to really do any sort of repair, but having borrowed a kitchen knife from the cafe across the road and a pair of pliers that one of the other hapless towees had with him, he appears to have fixed the problem. I have to say that I think a new cable is what is really required. This weekend being a French Bank Holiday, I hope I can keep on top of it all till Tuesday.
Good place for this to happen though, as I was still spoilt for choice in eating at midnight within 200 yards of the hotel.
No comments:
Post a Comment