There's a hole in the petrol tank dear Mandy ...

Perfect weather for an Ark

Mandy takes over the story:

Having extracated ourselves from Calais with my schoolgirl French (which I feel worked better in the giraffe suit than it ever did in the `O` Level), we set off on the longest leg. 

With less than a whole tiger in our tank and two coffees under my belt "Services" was the next important stop.  We were unaware at this juncture that to the French, their road signs and petrol stations are a tres tres well kept secret!   

By the time we had realised petrol on the motorway would only become we'd reached empty - and a 'ladies' only after that, hysteria had set in.  We went 'off piste' to (urgently!) find a garage and loo.  And still the French signage seemed intent upon preventing us finding any kind of 'services'.  Priorities in order, I unceremoniously stormed the equivalent of a Premier Inn.  The relief of a toilet break was short lived as, returning to the car we found it would turn over but not start. 

A nasty cold lump appeared somewhere in the base of my tummy as I remembered she had hesitated the day previously at home which I had put down to overchoke.  I kept quiet.  Next stop petrol - but then she really didn`t want to start.  This combined with the fluttery nature of her acceleration led me to fear an impending collapse.  I still kept quiet as the Car was my department and I didn`t know what the problem was.

Jo : By the time we reached the turning for Le Mans, I was used to propping back the passenger wing mirror with my index finger.  If I didn't do this, wind pressure would take a few minutes for it to give Mandy a clear view of the back wheel!  Mandy had been rather quiet for the past few miles whilst we sought out a service station to fill up the two petrol cans in our boot.  This seemed a sensible precaution given the bizarrely few motorway services we had found.  Lots of nice camping/parking type places to stop.  If one had the time.

Mandy fills up petrol cans, dashing to and from car.

Mandy:  There was nothing for it but to keep going ... as in don`t turn the engine off now it is going.  Genius idea to keep her running and fill up at the next petrol station, leave engine running and use the filler cans in relay. Simple pimple.  Only key for boot in ignition.  Brilliant!  Now, most of you would think to just take key off fob.  No.  Way too easy.  I do cryptic (as Jo will forlornly wail!) till les vaches retournez.

No.  I snipped off the spare set which was oiled and cable tied to the tow hook (handily now very slippery ...), found the filler nozzle only fitted one can ... much flooding on forecourt and nearly expired in the heat, for one full tank.  Jo noted I had "caught the sun".  Caught the sun?!  Nay ... 'tis tearing around in a giraffe onesie that has procured the puce complexion!

The next three hours the cold lump grew as the Ark fluttered up the hills and whenever under load and I fretted we would even make the first stop - until we turned up ELO and Mr Blue Sky on ancient cassette and drowned out all the worries in true girlie style!!!