Time for an update!
I sold my old front seats for £50 more than the whole new interior cost me! Result!
At the end of July, I made some photographs of my car with a fancy camera a friend had just bought:
And with a phone:
After that I turned up at Silverstone to see some 924's go around a track
I could do this to mine. Probably won't.
Then later in August, I took 10 days out of my casual part time job and got very tired. These are the places I'd visit, with all the bits on the contient travelled on my bicycle:
First up, the drive to North Wales, where I met with someone in Llandudno to photograph their Celica. There was a lot of holiday traffic on the way up, which is a shame, since it's a great drive.
The Celica had bike carbs and straight pipes. I knew the location I was going to use was a few feet away from the garage, but straight pipes man. So, we duly upset the whole town.
I then checked into my hotel in Llandudno a bit late and upset Mrs Fawlty. I skipped breakfast and headed over to Crewe, where I photographed a lovely 924S for the Owners club mag. It was lowered slightly, which made a huge difference.
That afternoon I drove over to Wigan and met Fil, who had “some” 924's. He'd borrowed garages from other people on the street long term and his vast collection of cars had become a centre of the community, it was fantastic. The man owned six 924's, covering most models, conditions, modifications etc. I loved it! Here's just one garage.
Oh a clutch. Ominous.
It was a nice evening to drive to Edinburgh, so I decided to take the scenic route. I ate this Twirl at Morecambe Bay.
Looking over the ravines in my dash. Scotland ahead!
I came over all Alan Partridge and was excited to stop at what is apparently the best service station in England. It was alright. I doubt it sees the same kind of traffic as competitors.
Scotland, at last!
The seats lie, the headlining tells the truth.
It was dark by the time I got to Edinburgh, however it was still a fun drive up, especially once the motorway finishes at the end. Arriving in the centre when the Fringe festival was in full flow was great too!
I was up there to hang out with some old friends and make some photographs of their show. They spent a year saving up to put on the show, rent a house etc and were having a great time. I got to share the living room, which was better than some hotels!
Peeking out the window at my faithful 924.
All packed & ready to drive back to Cardiff.
Quick fly count!
I clicked avoid motorways. The Sat-Nav took ages to plan a route.
In Carlisle, my clutch pedal went to the floor. I pulled over, lifted the bonnet & found the cable in perfect condition. I made a quick call to the AA whilst lots of sad thoughts went through my head. A Scottish patrol man called Thomas arrived. We realised the actual clutch pedal was broken, it snapped in two right at the top. At this point it was clear Thomas was not going to tow me to Cardiff and I was a mere 1.6 miles from the M6. We took the pedal to a Halfords Auto Centre, who welded it back together on the shop floor. It was a bit of a nightmare hooking the cable up again, but from phoning the AA to being on my way to the M6 took under 2 hours, not bad! Thomas then followed me up to the M6, dashing any hopes of the scenic route. I knew if I took to the A roads and my pedal snapped again, Thomas would be over in minutes to promptly smack me on the head with it. I put in quite a long stint of driving, from Carlisle to Cardiff with about 3 gear changes. There's not another car I'd rather take for something like that!
The next day I drove down to Dover with a friend (albeit in their Clio) and cycled onto the ferry:
The first night we made a bit of a miscalculation and our hotel was 86.2 miles away. Getting off the ferry at 5pm, we were in our hotel in Holland for 10:30pm. I saw this gorgeous Alfa Romeo on the way:
I revisited some of the places I'd driven through in April, only on my bike.
Some reasons to move out of Wales.
For the cyclists who might be reading, this is my Italian Stallion! I wish my car was as good in relative terms...
Then back on the ferry, sporting some impressive tan lines:
And finally, I was late to the Retro Rides Gathering at Prescott Hill Climb and couldn't possibly drink enough coffee. Which was all awful compared to that continental stuff anyway.
Next trip is this:
Dijon isn't THAT far from Geneva, which isn't THAT far from Turin. Any suggestions?