I’m quite embarrassed. It seems I’ve become quite soft in my old (33) age. Having sold my comfortable cruiser, in the form of the Saab, I’ve had to put a lot of miles on the 2CV – about 500 this week. That in itself is fine. The weather has been sublime so the roof has been back all the way. Hoorah and indeed, wa-hey.
Problem is, after clocking up about 250 miles this weekend, I’m absolutely shattered! I’ve got aches across my back and in my arms because rather than twirling a seemingly disconnected wheel, I’ve actually had to steer a car. I live in Wales, so any long distance drive involves a LOT of bends. 250 miles in a weekend doesn’t seem much, but only about 5 miles was done on motorway, with about 10 miles of dual carriageway at most. Otherwise, it’s been A roads and B roads and one tight-and-twisty mountain section. There’s also the need to combat the 2CV’s lean on bends. I find myself leaning into the bends like an eager motorcyclist!
So, the downside of communicative steering that actually lets you know what’s going on is that driving quickly becomes rather a workout. That’s a good thing I reckon, though it’s clear I need to put more miles in to get myself back into shape.
But then working on a car is good exercise too. It’s amazing how much of a workout undoing some bolts can be, and you always find yourself lifting something or clambering over a wing looking for all the world like a snooker player trying to make love to the table. I’ve noticed they do this quite a lot – is it why women watch snooker?
Apologies for the lack of photos with this blog. My laptop died last week and accessing my photo library has become something of a pain. Normal service, whatever that is, shall resume at some point yet to be disclosed. Adventures to look forward to in the near future include the Range Rover narrowly avoiding being booted off the fleet and a road trip in the sheddy BX estate…