Sensible family daily wagon - Mercedes Benz S211 E500
Discussion
As I limped towards my would-be-saviour, harbouring the type of remorse-thrill that I feel whenever I run the petrol tank perilously close to empty, though in this instance, the illicit pleasure had its origin in not having opted for European breakdown cover and having to sail the high seas of fortune; the MB tri-star, visible in the distance and mounted proudly on the roof of the franchise Senger Südwestfalen GmbH, shone like a beacon.
I tiptoed into the car park, suspension sensibly raised, parked up and tentatively approached ze Frau and das Fraüleinguarding
manning
patrolling sat at the desk, greeting customers. After enquiring whether English was spoken and receiving and very satisfactory response, I proceeded to explain my issue and was asked to take a seat.
It wasn't long until a technician in a set of very smart blueish-grey overalls adorned with the MB badge on the left breast approached me and asked me to drive Magnus onto the ramp. 'Blimey', I thought to myself, 'I've been quite fortunate to have been seen so quickly'.
Once on the ramp, I was invited to accompany the technician as he inspected the issue.
It really wasn't a challenge to his no-doubt considerable technical acumen; it was quite insightful, however. The front nsf bumper has been repainted at some point and the fog light perished, so that the reflective material had dissipated to reveal the red backing - one of those little things that niggled at me.
Nevertheless, the reason that I mention this is that the issue was a little deeper - whatever had caused that had also had another impact - the mounting bracket for the undertray had been bent upwards by some degree - to the extent that it couldn't be rectified by the technician as the bracket is a complete part that mounts to the subframe i.e. not a swift replacement and the bracket is tough as hell to bend back into place.
He seemed quite confident of securing the undertray so that it would see out my journey including the assumed higher wind resistance that the vehicle encounters at autobahn speeds.
He also took the time to inspect the vehicle all around. I found myself squirming a little, as he scrutinised my vehicle. I'd invested time and money in ensuring that things were sound, so I half expected him to say, "Herr Tanousis, your English technicians work to the quality of us Germans and possibly even higher".. He then also mentioned something odd - that W211s were highly prone to rust, before MB re-established their manufacturing quality with the facelift. I was taken aback by this certainty, as it's certainly not a reputation that I am aware of.
As we walked around under Magnus, we exchanged pleasantries and he was quite interested in my recent experience of the Nordschleife, having been intending to visit there himself.
Here's a bushing that needs addressing. From memory it is one of the drop links, though perhaps someone will correct me before I check my notes and correct myself.
How about a little bit of weeping oil?
Or a rusty as f**k brake line, which he remarked on, disapprovingly and commented that it would not confirm to German TUV standards of roadworthiness.
That irked me slightly, because upon inspecting my photos and recalling my own observation, it was evidently visible from when the rear subframe mounts had been replaced just before the trip, but it wasn't noted as an advisory on the invoice. As recorded here:
Additionally, the collapsed undertray had dragged the osf arch liner onto the wheel at 155mph or so and came out rather worse for wear. Still, I was assured of additional brake cooling on one side, at least.
It also had the effect of shearing a retaining bolt for the liner, too.
Once he had given me his feedback and I had made a list for my 'man' upon my return to a Blighty, the undertray was well secured with a combined of bolts and cable ties, very firmly.
Once he had finished, I asked him what was owed and he informed me that there was no fee requested. I was humbled by this generosity for a traveller in need and felt as though I had to offer him a gesture of gratitude.
It was then that I was reminded of my purchase in the morning of the sticker of the Nordschleife from the petrol station. Fate had driven me to pick it up for this purpose; after all, that's how the universe works sometimes and we just have to submit to it.
He was very happy for his small token of appreciation and I was pleased to have been on my merry way, with a break that was no longer that a slightly extended lunch and stretch of legs.
To recap the timing of my serendipitous sojourn:
12.37pm: Photo on Autobahn
13.35pm: Photo on ramp, awaiting inspection
13.49pm: Photo of secures undertray, job done
Next up, is the remainder of the day to Denmark.
I tiptoed into the car park, suspension sensibly raised, parked up and tentatively approached ze Frau and das Fraülein
It wasn't long until a technician in a set of very smart blueish-grey overalls adorned with the MB badge on the left breast approached me and asked me to drive Magnus onto the ramp. 'Blimey', I thought to myself, 'I've been quite fortunate to have been seen so quickly'.
Once on the ramp, I was invited to accompany the technician as he inspected the issue.
It really wasn't a challenge to his no-doubt considerable technical acumen; it was quite insightful, however. The front nsf bumper has been repainted at some point and the fog light perished, so that the reflective material had dissipated to reveal the red backing - one of those little things that niggled at me.
Nevertheless, the reason that I mention this is that the issue was a little deeper - whatever had caused that had also had another impact - the mounting bracket for the undertray had been bent upwards by some degree - to the extent that it couldn't be rectified by the technician as the bracket is a complete part that mounts to the subframe i.e. not a swift replacement and the bracket is tough as hell to bend back into place.
He seemed quite confident of securing the undertray so that it would see out my journey including the assumed higher wind resistance that the vehicle encounters at autobahn speeds.
He also took the time to inspect the vehicle all around. I found myself squirming a little, as he scrutinised my vehicle. I'd invested time and money in ensuring that things were sound, so I half expected him to say, "Herr Tanousis, your English technicians work to the quality of us Germans and possibly even higher".. He then also mentioned something odd - that W211s were highly prone to rust, before MB re-established their manufacturing quality with the facelift. I was taken aback by this certainty, as it's certainly not a reputation that I am aware of.
As we walked around under Magnus, we exchanged pleasantries and he was quite interested in my recent experience of the Nordschleife, having been intending to visit there himself.
Here's a bushing that needs addressing. From memory it is one of the drop links, though perhaps someone will correct me before I check my notes and correct myself.
How about a little bit of weeping oil?
Or a rusty as f**k brake line, which he remarked on, disapprovingly and commented that it would not confirm to German TUV standards of roadworthiness.
That irked me slightly, because upon inspecting my photos and recalling my own observation, it was evidently visible from when the rear subframe mounts had been replaced just before the trip, but it wasn't noted as an advisory on the invoice. As recorded here:
Additionally, the collapsed undertray had dragged the osf arch liner onto the wheel at 155mph or so and came out rather worse for wear. Still, I was assured of additional brake cooling on one side, at least.
It also had the effect of shearing a retaining bolt for the liner, too.
Once he had given me his feedback and I had made a list for my 'man' upon my return to a Blighty, the undertray was well secured with a combined of bolts and cable ties, very firmly.
Once he had finished, I asked him what was owed and he informed me that there was no fee requested. I was humbled by this generosity for a traveller in need and felt as though I had to offer him a gesture of gratitude.
It was then that I was reminded of my purchase in the morning of the sticker of the Nordschleife from the petrol station. Fate had driven me to pick it up for this purpose; after all, that's how the universe works sometimes and we just have to submit to it.
He was very happy for his small token of appreciation and I was pleased to have been on my merry way, with a break that was no longer that a slightly extended lunch and stretch of legs.
To recap the timing of my serendipitous sojourn:
12.37pm: Photo on Autobahn
13.35pm: Photo on ramp, awaiting inspection
13.49pm: Photo of secures undertray, job done
Next up, is the remainder of the day to Denmark.
Edited by bolidemichael on Thursday 13th April 11:29
That Merc dealer looks fantastic. Your car is in good company too. My Benz Beard isn't quite up to it but that looks like a W123 coupe in the background.
This now makes me want to take my car to a German BMW dealer. Preferably a B&K. There were a lot of grey imports back in the day with floor mats that had their slogan 'Alles Klar!' embroidered into them.
Mine Taube Deutch ist nicht gut, but I am sure we could come to some sort of communication.
This now makes me want to take my car to a German BMW dealer. Preferably a B&K. There were a lot of grey imports back in the day with floor mats that had their slogan 'Alles Klar!' embroidered into them.
Mine Taube Deutch ist nicht gut, but I am sure we could come to some sort of communication.
Just started your thread this morning and as much as I’m enjoying it, I’ve just got to page 13 and I’ve got to ask - where are you getting your alloys refurbished to that standard for £50??? Completely agree on the Bilt Hamber love too - no fragrances, no colours, no fancy packaging (apart from the lovely aluminium bottles) just honest products that do exactly what you expect.
Back to the story...
Back to the story...
It does seem that the European motor repair industry is populated by competent, enthusiastic and mechanically astute types whereas the British motor industry is populated by corner cutting rip off merchants.
I recall many moons ago the youthful r129sl was taken on a camping holiday to France in a borrowed 300 D (first impressions and all that) which started making a knocking noise in bends. The old man and I took it to the Merc dealer in Annecy on a Friday morning. Five minutes later a mechanic was sliding it round a roundabout. "Ça?". "Oui, ça". Thirty-five minutes later and it was all shaking hands, "absolutement impossible" that they could charge us a single Franc, go well on your way Messieurs, please do take the 60 page hardback brochure for the new w140 S-Class. And no knocking noise.
It's not like that here. I can't drive past my local Merc dealer on the way to the pub without fifteen phone calls going unreturned, a four day delay waiting for parts, lots of teeth sucking, a failure to fix some minor problem, the emergence of seven more problems and a scratch on the front wing. I do hope they all go out of business in the "lockdown".
I recall many moons ago the youthful r129sl was taken on a camping holiday to France in a borrowed 300 D (first impressions and all that) which started making a knocking noise in bends. The old man and I took it to the Merc dealer in Annecy on a Friday morning. Five minutes later a mechanic was sliding it round a roundabout. "Ça?". "Oui, ça". Thirty-five minutes later and it was all shaking hands, "absolutement impossible" that they could charge us a single Franc, go well on your way Messieurs, please do take the 60 page hardback brochure for the new w140 S-Class. And no knocking noise.
It's not like that here. I can't drive past my local Merc dealer on the way to the pub without fifteen phone calls going unreturned, a four day delay waiting for parts, lots of teeth sucking, a failure to fix some minor problem, the emergence of seven more problems and a scratch on the front wing. I do hope they all go out of business in the "lockdown".
B'stard Child said:
bolidemichael][thumb said:
Some sort of Vauxhall Carlton, I'm sure that @b'stardchild would know what it is!
Sorry late to the party - the b'stardchild old Carlton/Senator paging system has been broken for a while and I've been serving a PH ban......Anyway to answer you question - It's a Vauxhall Carlton 3.0 CDX Estate fitted with an Irmscher 3.6 Litre 12 valve lump
Not sure if it's still got that engine fitted as I think it might have been transplanted into a saloon since then
Is that car familiar to you from other forums, then? This photo was taken last March.
JakeT said:
That Merc dealer looks fantastic. Your car is in good company too. My Benz Beard isn't quite up to it but that looks like a W123 coupe in the background.
This now makes me want to take my car to a German BMW dealer. Preferably a B&K. There were a lot of grey imports back in the day with floor mats that had their slogan 'Alles Klar!' embroidered into them.
Mine Taube Deutch ist nicht gut, but I am sure we could come to some sort of communication.
Yes, it is a coupe, I hadn't actually clocked that and wasn't aware of them so much, just the rather humdrum saloon. It's quite a handsome thing, isn't it? There were three additional technicians crowded around that one whilst my chap was busy fixing-critiquing my car. This now makes me want to take my car to a German BMW dealer. Preferably a B&K. There were a lot of grey imports back in the day with floor mats that had their slogan 'Alles Klar!' embroidered into them.
Mine Taube Deutch ist nicht gut, but I am sure we could come to some sort of communication.
Why didn't British dealers have 'Tally Ho!' embroidered on their car mats?
idealstandard said:
What a great dealer and a nice experience to have. My old Mondeo lost the front lip/bumper cover on the autobahn doing a relatively modest 115mph a few years ago, sadly due to Belgian build quality it was never recovered or reinstalled...!
Considering that I have the mechanical sympathy of a monster truck driver, one would say that the sticker purchased was the key to another reality - one in which I was more the pigeon and less the statue.Northbrook said:
Part of me would be tempted to take my W124 to a dealer mech in Germany and see them cry 
Sounds like a lucky escape, but a useful experience.
When I had a 380SEC, I harboured a dream to take it to a specialist near Stuttgart in order to have it renovated. Oh well.Sounds like a lucky escape, but a useful experience.
J.C... said:
Just started your thread this morning and as much as I’m enjoying it, I’ve just got to page 13 and I’ve got to ask - where are you getting your alloys refurbished to that standard for £50??? Completely agree on the Bilt Hamber love too - no fragrances, no colours, no fancy packaging (apart from the lovely aluminium bottles) just honest products that do exactly what you expect.
Back to the story...
I can't look much further than Bilt Hamber, the customer service is fantastic; I always received responses to my myriad queries from Pete Hamber and I think that's fantastic.Back to the story...
£50 or £50+VAT... come to think of it, it's the former which I'm surprised at too. I get it done via my tyre 'man' by Spit and Polish, the Pioneers of Alloy Wheel Refurbishment.. They are given loose alloys without tyres, which probably explains the cost - additionally, as they do the rounds with independent tyre shops, seemingly, there is little hassle with shipping and returns. I would say that their work is 8/10 for the diamond cut and 9/10 for the silver (which will be covered in a later post - around October/November 2019).
r129sl said:
It does seem that the European motor repair industry is populated by competent, enthusiastic and mechanically astute types whereas the British motor industry is populated by corner cutting rip off merchants.
I recall many moons ago the youthful r129sl was taken on a camping holiday to France in a borrowed 300 D (first impressions and all that) which started making a knocking noise in bends. The old man and I took it to the Merc dealer in Annecy on a Friday morning. Five minutes later a mechanic was sliding it round a roundabout. "Ça?". "Oui, ça". Thirty-five minutes later and it was all shaking hands, "absolutement impossible" that they could charge us a single Franc, go well on your way Messieurs, please do take the 60 page hardback brochure for the new w140 S-Class. And no knocking noise.
It's not like that here. I can't drive past my local Merc dealer on the way to the pub without fifteen phone calls going unreturned, a four day delay waiting for parts, lots of teeth sucking, a failure to fix some minor problem, the emergence of seven more problems and a scratch on the front wing. I do hope they all go out of business in the "lockdown".
Rose tinted spectacles, my good man. I popped into MB Denmark later on in the journey in order to address a wheel balancing issue and they couldn't get rid of me quickly enough, the bar stewards. It got sorted though...I recall many moons ago the youthful r129sl was taken on a camping holiday to France in a borrowed 300 D (first impressions and all that) which started making a knocking noise in bends. The old man and I took it to the Merc dealer in Annecy on a Friday morning. Five minutes later a mechanic was sliding it round a roundabout. "Ça?". "Oui, ça". Thirty-five minutes later and it was all shaking hands, "absolutement impossible" that they could charge us a single Franc, go well on your way Messieurs, please do take the 60 page hardback brochure for the new w140 S-Class. And no knocking noise.
It's not like that here. I can't drive past my local Merc dealer on the way to the pub without fifteen phone calls going unreturned, a four day delay waiting for parts, lots of teeth sucking, a failure to fix some minor problem, the emergence of seven more problems and a scratch on the front wing. I do hope they all go out of business in the "lockdown".
I do like the image of the voluminous W140 'brochure'. That bornite 400SE on the barge thread is absolutely captivating, I must admit. It possess style in spades.
My wife’s S211 ruptured the same brake pipe a few weeks after a service and MOT at a main dealer when it was no more than 9 years old - she proceeded to drive it another 70 or so miles thinking the spongy pedal was the feel imparted by the new shoes she wore that day! In the dealer’s partial defence, the problem is caused by the adjacent wheelarch liner which encloses it enough to obscure a view from some angles but envelops it sufficiently to hold dirt. I replaced them - both sides - with Kunifer, with the second side disintegrating during disassembly.
The bush you circled is the connection to the strut, the drop link is the one immediately in front of that, nearer the camera. I replaced all arms on the S211 at about 110k miles, and the number of joints that rattled and bushes with splits was surprising.
The bush you circled is the connection to the strut, the drop link is the one immediately in front of that, nearer the camera. I replaced all arms on the S211 at about 110k miles, and the number of joints that rattled and bushes with splits was surprising.
German driving habits - some are awful, such as the uber-aggressive tailgating on the autobahn that makes me wince and hang a bit further back when I witness it. Some, however, are very intriguing; it's as though they have a hive mentality, the Japanese of Central Europe.
Here is one such marvel - there was a fair amount of congestion on this Monday headed north and whenever we came to a standstill the traffic would settle upon the extremities of the carriage. To be fair, they are mostly two lane roads with no hard shoulder, but I haven't seen this in France and certainly not in the hornets' nest that are Italian autostrade.
Let's not dwell on the fact that our fabulous motorway system has been allowed to be compromised by some sort of communist group-think decision-making, leading to 'smart motorways'...
You may recall that in Ghent, I visited my friend's organic farm. He offered me a few bits and bobs to take on my journey and being just one generation away from the peasant-farmer heritage of my antecedents, of course I didn't grumble a jot. In fact, I discovered quite a soothing way of tackling a raw gherkin, thick skinned, bitter and pulp-laden, one really has to savour the unsavoury in order to warrant the relief of the water-borne seed in the centre (srsly, wtf am I writing here?!). Well, this is but a car journey on one's todd and I can entertain myself as I please.
One beautiful gherkin:
the skin is quite astringent, but its something that appeals after a while to Campari-loving tastebuds.
pulp dealt with, an odd experience
the result of my afternoon's nibbling
This series of blank-mind induce photos was taken around Walrode headed north on the 7, having passed Hanover and en route to Hamburg then further north. Incidentally, I don't really bother planning my routes unless I want a special deviation as per the Eiffel Bridge in France, I just stick the destination into COMAND, in order to kid myself that my Mercedes is working harmoniously with my needs as a continental man of action, whilst a back up phone tethered to the 4G on my main handset, is guiding me via Waze.
My main handset is plugged into a socket in the centre console which a previous owner had disconnected from the six CD changer. Through this I stream whatever and control it via my apple watch. The main screen is waze (with no route), so that any police warnings are issued via the car speakers. This system works very well for me and to date, I have only had two fines for minor infractions at low speed limits in France.
Another thing keeping me entertained on this day, that threatened to be mundane, but was frightfully eventful, was the regular appearance of vehicles with W.O.A. embalzoned in gaffa tape in their rear windscreens or in this case, on the back of the caravan;
It was rather titillating to witness; I don't know if any of you have had similar experiences, but when I was younger and used to frequent music festivals, there always seemed to be one dude, completely out of his mind apparently from the off, that just kept popping up repeatedly, languid, staggering, hopeless, aimless. That added to the entertainment throughout the day and so it was that the W.O.A. self-sloganed vehicles - mostly estates and larger - added to the gentle titillation of this slow progress, high amusement day.
Whenever there were snatches of free autobahn it was hilarious. I love the fact that the 7G-tronic box on my car is geared to change from sixth to seventh at a long legged 130mph. The concept of speed limit free roads is so conducive to the concept of democracy and free agency; despite my car being a little aged, it is still faster than eight tenths of the other traffic and keeps pace with the ninth... the others, I move over to the right quite sharpish.
A little on flat out driving on the autobahnen. As the high speeds achieved are beyond the comprehension of most a to b kind of drivers, it is very hard to gauge the difference between a vehicle travelling at 100mph and one traveliing at 160mph - when it is just a spec in one's mirror. One therefore encounters a number of vehicles simply pulling left from their lane directly into the path of a vehicle carrying a significant momentum; this then leads to the notion amongst drivers of vehicles that mainly overtake, that the way to address this, is to wait until the last minute to brake really hard, thereby scaring the bejesus out of the slower vehicle and 'teaching them a lesson'; this is my hypothesis and I welcome others; the reason that I mention this is that the autobahn is actually a racetrack and this comes to the fore when these poor Passat-estate middle managers pull sheepishly (or indignantly) back into their lane. At this point, it becomes a matter of justifying one's position in the overtaking lane and that comes down to... acceleration. The volume of fuel that must be burned, wringing the absolute neck of one's vehicle simply to maintain the pace required of the outside lane is laughable and also, very enjoyable indeed.
At least on English motorways, if a vehicle is faster, one can pull over and occupy the moral high ground of "I'm not going to exceed the speed limit so brazenly!" whilst cradling the feeling of horsepower-induced emasculation. On German roads, one can really find out what other cars have under the bonnet to bring to the party. Have I mentioned that a UK plate is like a red-flag to a Panzer? Actually, that holds true in most European countries, as evidenced by my experiences with loco-Seat Cupra R estate hombre on the drive to Segovia (the only time that I was overtaken in Spain lol) and the Seat Toledo that must have bust the tappets trying to keep pace with me headed North of Girona. Oh, and the excellent RR SVR in France that kept my avg speed up for a good hundred plus miles. They love it, our sexy foreign cousins.
Back to the point... I did a little google later and it turns out that W.O.A. is Wacken Open Air, a German metal festival. Boy, I bet that they had a great time, they seem to have a cult thing going on with the vehicle stickers and it is very effective marketing, too. The journey down and back must be great, spotting fellow festival go-ers on the journey.
When I did eventually get to Denmark, there was a border check and anticipating that muggins here with his English plate and laden vehicle would be invited for a chat, my documents were ready and to hand. Of course, the Danes are a wonderful people with an easy humour, so it wasn't too much trouble to disarm them with a mild accusation of picking on me because of Brexit, "It's not my fault, you know, we all love Danish bacon in the UK" etc... they were no trouble and let me on my way in a jiffy.
After that, the roads were clear, at around 7/8pm. Denmark's motorway system is predominantly two lane carriageways and despite having read somewhere about the zealousness of the Danish police, I made swift and enjoyable progress, the engine warmed, loosened and enticing me to go for a few more 'spirit-of-the-autobahn' style flourishes. It soon wore off, however and we ambled to our destination which was pleasingly in a fairly rural setting in Velje, Jutland.
It had been quite a long day of driving and I was glad to have arrived - with just about twenty minutes to spare for my dinner meeting. The avg speed was low but the fuel consumption fairly high.
The car park indicated that the hotel was fairly quiet.
The Haraldskaer Sinatur Hotel was thoroughly Danish; clean, utilitarian, functional and stylish, with a focus on seasonal and local ingredients.
I would recommend a stay there; the breakfast was very nice, I ate about three plates consisting of venison carpaccio, cheeses, fruit etc. It was all a great giggle, I was like a child in a sweetie shop, discovering lots of strange new foods to consume.
The building itself is very handsome and possesses an easy charm
I even had time to wander up to the reed lake that they have on site too.
Did I mention that it is mainly staffed by young local lasses? Whilst the waitress at dinner may not have known much about the wine she was recommending, the redhead at the nightdesk kept me amused for a good while and I was disappointed to have to leave her to complete her shift whilst I got some welcome rest.
Here is one such marvel - there was a fair amount of congestion on this Monday headed north and whenever we came to a standstill the traffic would settle upon the extremities of the carriage. To be fair, they are mostly two lane roads with no hard shoulder, but I haven't seen this in France and certainly not in the hornets' nest that are Italian autostrade.
Let's not dwell on the fact that our fabulous motorway system has been allowed to be compromised by some sort of communist group-think decision-making, leading to 'smart motorways'...
You may recall that in Ghent, I visited my friend's organic farm. He offered me a few bits and bobs to take on my journey and being just one generation away from the peasant-farmer heritage of my antecedents, of course I didn't grumble a jot. In fact, I discovered quite a soothing way of tackling a raw gherkin, thick skinned, bitter and pulp-laden, one really has to savour the unsavoury in order to warrant the relief of the water-borne seed in the centre (srsly, wtf am I writing here?!). Well, this is but a car journey on one's todd and I can entertain myself as I please.
One beautiful gherkin:
the skin is quite astringent, but its something that appeals after a while to Campari-loving tastebuds.
pulp dealt with, an odd experience
the result of my afternoon's nibbling
This series of blank-mind induce photos was taken around Walrode headed north on the 7, having passed Hanover and en route to Hamburg then further north. Incidentally, I don't really bother planning my routes unless I want a special deviation as per the Eiffel Bridge in France, I just stick the destination into COMAND, in order to kid myself that my Mercedes is working harmoniously with my needs as a continental man of action, whilst a back up phone tethered to the 4G on my main handset, is guiding me via Waze.
My main handset is plugged into a socket in the centre console which a previous owner had disconnected from the six CD changer. Through this I stream whatever and control it via my apple watch. The main screen is waze (with no route), so that any police warnings are issued via the car speakers. This system works very well for me and to date, I have only had two fines for minor infractions at low speed limits in France.
Another thing keeping me entertained on this day, that threatened to be mundane, but was frightfully eventful, was the regular appearance of vehicles with W.O.A. embalzoned in gaffa tape in their rear windscreens or in this case, on the back of the caravan;
It was rather titillating to witness; I don't know if any of you have had similar experiences, but when I was younger and used to frequent music festivals, there always seemed to be one dude, completely out of his mind apparently from the off, that just kept popping up repeatedly, languid, staggering, hopeless, aimless. That added to the entertainment throughout the day and so it was that the W.O.A. self-sloganed vehicles - mostly estates and larger - added to the gentle titillation of this slow progress, high amusement day.
Whenever there were snatches of free autobahn it was hilarious. I love the fact that the 7G-tronic box on my car is geared to change from sixth to seventh at a long legged 130mph. The concept of speed limit free roads is so conducive to the concept of democracy and free agency; despite my car being a little aged, it is still faster than eight tenths of the other traffic and keeps pace with the ninth... the others, I move over to the right quite sharpish.
A little on flat out driving on the autobahnen. As the high speeds achieved are beyond the comprehension of most a to b kind of drivers, it is very hard to gauge the difference between a vehicle travelling at 100mph and one traveliing at 160mph - when it is just a spec in one's mirror. One therefore encounters a number of vehicles simply pulling left from their lane directly into the path of a vehicle carrying a significant momentum; this then leads to the notion amongst drivers of vehicles that mainly overtake, that the way to address this, is to wait until the last minute to brake really hard, thereby scaring the bejesus out of the slower vehicle and 'teaching them a lesson'; this is my hypothesis and I welcome others; the reason that I mention this is that the autobahn is actually a racetrack and this comes to the fore when these poor Passat-estate middle managers pull sheepishly (or indignantly) back into their lane. At this point, it becomes a matter of justifying one's position in the overtaking lane and that comes down to... acceleration. The volume of fuel that must be burned, wringing the absolute neck of one's vehicle simply to maintain the pace required of the outside lane is laughable and also, very enjoyable indeed.
At least on English motorways, if a vehicle is faster, one can pull over and occupy the moral high ground of "I'm not going to exceed the speed limit so brazenly!" whilst cradling the feeling of horsepower-induced emasculation. On German roads, one can really find out what other cars have under the bonnet to bring to the party. Have I mentioned that a UK plate is like a red-flag to a Panzer? Actually, that holds true in most European countries, as evidenced by my experiences with loco-Seat Cupra R estate hombre on the drive to Segovia (the only time that I was overtaken in Spain lol) and the Seat Toledo that must have bust the tappets trying to keep pace with me headed North of Girona. Oh, and the excellent RR SVR in France that kept my avg speed up for a good hundred plus miles. They love it, our sexy foreign cousins.
Back to the point... I did a little google later and it turns out that W.O.A. is Wacken Open Air, a German metal festival. Boy, I bet that they had a great time, they seem to have a cult thing going on with the vehicle stickers and it is very effective marketing, too. The journey down and back must be great, spotting fellow festival go-ers on the journey.
When I did eventually get to Denmark, there was a border check and anticipating that muggins here with his English plate and laden vehicle would be invited for a chat, my documents were ready and to hand. Of course, the Danes are a wonderful people with an easy humour, so it wasn't too much trouble to disarm them with a mild accusation of picking on me because of Brexit, "It's not my fault, you know, we all love Danish bacon in the UK" etc... they were no trouble and let me on my way in a jiffy.
After that, the roads were clear, at around 7/8pm. Denmark's motorway system is predominantly two lane carriageways and despite having read somewhere about the zealousness of the Danish police, I made swift and enjoyable progress, the engine warmed, loosened and enticing me to go for a few more 'spirit-of-the-autobahn' style flourishes. It soon wore off, however and we ambled to our destination which was pleasingly in a fairly rural setting in Velje, Jutland.
It had been quite a long day of driving and I was glad to have arrived - with just about twenty minutes to spare for my dinner meeting. The avg speed was low but the fuel consumption fairly high.
The car park indicated that the hotel was fairly quiet.
The Haraldskaer Sinatur Hotel was thoroughly Danish; clean, utilitarian, functional and stylish, with a focus on seasonal and local ingredients.
I would recommend a stay there; the breakfast was very nice, I ate about three plates consisting of venison carpaccio, cheeses, fruit etc. It was all a great giggle, I was like a child in a sweetie shop, discovering lots of strange new foods to consume.
The building itself is very handsome and possesses an easy charm
I even had time to wander up to the reed lake that they have on site too.
Did I mention that it is mainly staffed by young local lasses? Whilst the waitress at dinner may not have known much about the wine she was recommending, the redhead at the nightdesk kept me amused for a good while and I was disappointed to have to leave her to complete her shift whilst I got some welcome rest.
Edited by bolidemichael on Tuesday 19th May 23:55
Edited by bolidemichael on Friday 18th September 11:02
Stegel said:
My wife’s S211 ruptured the same brake pipe a few weeks after a service and MOT at a main dealer when it was no more than 9 years old - she proceeded to drive it another 70 or so miles thinking the spongy pedal was the feel imparted by the new shoes she wore that day! In the dealer’s partial defence, the problem is caused by the adjacent wheelarch liner which encloses it enough to obscure a view from some angles but envelops it sufficiently to hold dirt. I replaced them - both sides - with Kunifer, with the second side disintegrating during disassembly.
The bush you circled is the connection to the strut, the drop link is the one immediately in front of that, nearer the camera. I replaced all arms on the S211 at about 110k miles, and the number of joints that rattled and bushes with splits was surprising.
Stegel Sharp Eyes... indeed it is. I checked my invoices and I got the spring links (which I believe are one and the same as 'drop links') replaced 3,000 miles later - they weren't that bad and lasted well, though I was being advised by the garage that they were due to be replaced, in time.The bush you circled is the connection to the strut, the drop link is the one immediately in front of that, nearer the camera. I replaced all arms on the S211 at about 110k miles, and the number of joints that rattled and bushes with splits was surprising.
Presumably, being a man of solutions, you had also handcrafted your wife's insoles from horsehair and polystyrene? That may have explained the 'false negative' as reported by Mrs Stegel.
Well bc this all feels rather clandestine.
I think that I know the troll that you mean as I recall you getting a little irate with them on another thread, though you were quite cool in your dismissal at the time; a shame that it got under your skin but these things happen. A digital detox is healthy, too. I quit FB and Insta over eighteen months ago now and haven't looked back.
Your message will self destruct? I have not quoted it here in order to preserve your anonymity, though it'll leave an odd gap on my thread which future generations will struggle to assimilate.
Please don't tell me that you've deleted your 'Why I can't own more than two cars at a time' thread.
I think that I know the troll that you mean as I recall you getting a little irate with them on another thread, though you were quite cool in your dismissal at the time; a shame that it got under your skin but these things happen. A digital detox is healthy, too. I quit FB and Insta over eighteen months ago now and haven't looked back.
Your message will self destruct? I have not quoted it here in order to preserve your anonymity, though it'll leave an odd gap on my thread which future generations will struggle to assimilate.
Please don't tell me that you've deleted your 'Why I can't own more than two cars at a time' thread.
Edited by bolidemichael on Wednesday 20th May 00:30
d child ever pulled, was convincing the world he didn't exist'. bolidemichael said:
Did I mention that it is mainly staffed by young local lasses? Whilst the waitress at dinner may not have known much about the wine she was recommending, the redhead at the nightdesk kept me amused for a good while and I was disappointed to have to leave her to complete her shift whilst I got some welcome rest.
I can't see the pictures of them. Please can you re-post? 
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