I’ve been blathering on a lot about the Merc recently, and judging by the declining blog stats, you’re getting bored with it even before I am. That’s worrying given how quickly I get bored with cars…

So, let me tempt you with my latest Motoring Triumph. A rusty 2CV that hasn’t been on the road for the best part of a decade.

Looks solid from this distance…

She’s a 1982 2CV6 Spécial finished (mostly) in Jade Green. The Spécial is the base model, so I’m lucky to get a passenger door mirror. Correct period features include the ‘twiddly-knob’ dashboard and slim rear bumper.

I might have to fit a new roof.

It’s not too bad for corrosion, having been well covered up. That’s not to say it’s perfect – some surgery will be required in places – but it’s a very sound prospect. The chassis is galvanised, the engine turns and there’s still some metal to weld to. Some typical areas have already been replaced, with good solid metal that has then been coated in some very effective anti-corrosion gunk. I must find out what it was…

At the moment, my hope is to get this one up and running and road legal fairly swiftly, so I can take Elly my long-term 2CV off the road for some proper fettling. Whether I’ll keep two long-term who knows? We might get used to having two 2CVs in the family.

The major stumbling block (once I’ve actually got them home) is learning to weld. It’s about time I learnt how to do it, though I’m slightly worried that my incredibly hirsute nature is not a natural bedfellow with hot sparks…

I failed to get the Mercedes MOTd today, for many different reasons. Instead, I did a fair bit of driving around in it, taking the total covered mileage up to over 250 since purchase.

Now it’s running much better, it really is a joy to drive. Like many German cars, including the Porsche 928 auto, it is a wonderful two-mode thing to drive. The throttle pedal has a rather long travel on it. This means that to make it go quickly, you have to make a bit of effort. The rest of the time, you just waft about with ease. It can make the car feel quite lazy – as does the Porsche actually for much of the time – but stretch your right foot all the way down and the scenery can get very blurry, very quickly.

The bland styling hides surprising excitement

Yet it isn’t over-eager to kick-down. You can give it a decent shove of throttle say to climb a hill, and it’ll resolutely refuse to change down. I love that. Modern transmissions (A BMW E39 was particularly annoying in this respect) are far too keen to drop a cog, which makes smooth progress difficult. It really does only kick-down when you actually want it to.

The two-mode operation is demonstrated keenly by the gearbox, as well as the throttle behaviour. There are two modes – S for normal (not sport, whatever people think) and E for economy. There’s very little difference between the two for most of the time. The default behaviour is for the car to pull away in second. In normal mode, a fierce shove of the throttle from standstill will cause it to actually select first gear. In economy mode, it just won’t, even if you’re got iron boots on and the light footedness of a herd of stampeding elephants.

What impresses is that the automatic gearbox can smoothly change ratios when going gently, but also manages it when full hoon is underway. Acceleration is astonishing, overtaking stress-free as long as you remember to ease off the throttle again before illegal speeds are reached – that doesn’t take very long at all. Sure, it is not the most inspiring machine when it comes to handling – the steering still relies on a box and the soft springing mean it’s no sports car. But you can corner with confidence, nudging the throttle on entry, so you can give it a bootfull on exit. In fact, I’ve seen some rather startled expressions when folk see a large slab-like, elderly Merc saloon travelling at pace, even though it’s all perfectly within safe and legal limits.

I prefer the taut feel of an Alfa Romeo 164, and the sonorous engine note, but the Merc is surprisingly enjoyable. I did consider a return to Alfa 164 ownership. I spied a red Cloverleaf – pretty much the ultimate 164 for me – but it was almost three times the price of the Mercedes. I had to ask myself, was it three times as good? My heart wants to say yes, but my brain isn’t having it.

It was a pretty risky gamble buying a misfiring Mercedes and driving it 150 miles home in the hope it was nothing major. And so it would seem. New plugs and leads and a tweak of the idle mixture have combined to make the car a totally different machine to drive. No longer are roundabouts a terrifying experience – will it accelerate or won’t it?

I’ve no way of knowing whether the problem was the plugs or the leads – but I suspect both were equally blameworthy.

Can you guess which is the old plug?

Certainly the plugs were not exactly fresh, and the leads ended up very broken after my embattled attempts to remove them.

It leaves me in hope that my time with this car will go well now. I love the silky-smooth six-cylinder engine and the way it growls when provoked, but is otherwise turbine-like. I enjoy the peace and quiet, the soft ride and the comfortable seats. Sure, it has quite a thirst – though I’m yet to discover just how bad – but I don’t plan to drive it that often. I’m going to drive it tomorrow though. And perhaps the day after. And Sunday might be a nice day for a drive…

Not the first car I considered buying, but not a bad choice at all

I don’t really get sports cars. I’ve tried owning one or two but I get fed up with having to clamber down into them and they’re not very practical. My Scimitar wasn’t bad – you could actually get quite a bit of stuff in the back – but the boot floor was quite high, so you just ended up removing any rear vision. It wasn’t very economical either, though it did sound rather lovely.

The BX is many things, most of them good. I’ve waffled on about how good it is before, but it really is. I love having a car that’s good to drive but also slightly quirky, very economical and massively practical. I will concede though that turbo whistle aside, it’s hardly a joy to listen to. Thankfully the engine becomes quite smooth at speed.

Self-levelling suspension is excellent!

Being able to chuck a couple of hundred kg of timber in the back is great. Especially as the car just self-levels, automatically boosting rear brake effort to compensate for the extra weight. The turbocharger makes light work of the extra load and while I could feel the weight when cornering, it doesn’t feel unstable.

The only downside is that the back of the car is now full of sawdust and the outside is covered in winter filth. I can’t put off a good spring clean much longer. Let’s hope the weather warms up a bit…

I’ve spent a frustrating few days trying to get to the bottom of why the Mercedes is running so badly. Progress has been pretty poor, hence not much in the way of updates. Sorry about that!

After two days of failing to improve things, I decided to take a break. After all, my trusty Citroen BX Turbo Diesel needed attention too. The hydraulic pump was running almost continuously. This means the clever hydraulic system was struggling to maintain the pressure needed to operate the suspension and brakes. An accumulator sphere holds the pressure, so when you hit the brakes, the power is already there, even if by some catastrophe, the engine isn’t running. It’s some pressure too – over 2000psi. That pressure can’t be maintained indefinitely, which is why a healthy Citroen will chirrup a few times a minute, as the pump quickly re-pressurises back to the maximum required. The BX was chirruping almost constantly, which suggested that either the pump was duff, or the accumulator sphere was unable to hold the pressure. Like anything, they age with time but replacement is pretty straight-forward. If you have the right tools.

A man with the right tool and plenty of BX know-how

I don’t, but I know a man who does, so I went to see him. Sure enough, the sphere was quickly changed and the chirruping (or tick time) occurred no more frequently than every 20 seconds. That’ll do. Generally, any tick-time below 10 seconds is considered poor. Mine went from about 10 seconds to constantly very quickly indeed. It was nice to have the BX back into full health. Especially as the rest of the fleet is not doing so well…

This morning, I got back onto Merc-fixing. Advice on a forum suggested tweaking the idle mixture – perhaps it was too rich, and was in effect flooding when I hit the throttle. Playing with the mixture is something that can go very wrong indeed, and is very rarely the fault. However, weaking the mixture by a touch has transformed the car. It still has a misfire, but it is now driveable and no longer bogs down when you’re trying to pull away. A fresh set of plugs and leads will be arriving before to long to try and transform things further.

Merc seems happy, even when stuck in traffic. Sheep traffic.

However, it is working well enough for me to actually undertake journeys in it, and what a delight it is. It’s a magnificent machine for wafting around in and while quick cornering makes it wallow like a hippo in a wheelbarrow, it actually feels much more nimble than my old W123 Mercedes. You can still corner quickly, as long as you don’t really push it. It’s quiet and refined, with excellent brakes should you need to call upon them. The BX wins hands down when it comes to handling, but these two cars are surprisingly close in terms of ride. Of course, the BX is uncannily smooth for a car in it’s class, so it’s a sign of how good it is that it compares with an equivalent executive car. The two cars may both be silver, but they’re very different to drive, and I like each of them a great deal.

It’s been an entire five months since I bought a new car. That’s approaching the eight-month record I managed between January and August last year, though in truth I did reclaim a car in that time.

I’ve spent hours agonising over what to buy and have made my decision. The car is now in my garage. Was it the right choice?

I drove a Mercedes-Benz R107 300SL recently and that must have made quite an impression. I very much liked the typically-excellent Mercedes-Benz automatic gearbox and the engine that could turn from wonderfully smooth to rorty and powerful depending on throttle pedal position. I spotted a Merc 300E W124 on Retro-Rides, and that it had been for sale since August. This looked like a slightly left-field view of temptation. It was up for £700, having dropped from £750 last summer. Given that the MOT was less than a month, there was no way I was paying that much. £500 was deemed to low, so I upped the ante to £575 and a deal was done. By text message.

Last night, I get a text from the seller’s son saying that the car is misfiring so I should bring a trailer or cancel the deal. A tricky one. I’d kind of decided I really wanted the car by this stage, and had insured it and everything. Cancelling would cost me £15 for nothing. Given that the only real option was to go and have a look at the thing anyway, and try and diagnose the fault, I thought I’d go ahead. What could possibly go wrong?

My Skoda-loving friend conveniently decided to move from the North East to pretty much on my doorstep not long after we moved here and the idea of a stupid road trip was very appealing. He collected me in his modern Octavia VRS thing, which allowed me to laugh at the complete lack of suspension for almost the entire journey. It really was rather firm. I am very grateful though!

We arrived at the vendor’s house not too much later than planned. He was at work but his wife gave us the keys and logbook, as well as a key to the lock-up garage and directions on how to find it. No money had changed hands at this point. I love how trusting some people are! The logbook was even signed.

We traipsed to the garage, opened the door and blinded a Mercedes with the sunlight.

Sleepy Mercedes gets woken up

It was about as interested in moving as I had been at 7am this morning. The starter wheezed a bit. No dice. The Octavia was put onto jump start duty. Still no dice. We poured a can of fuel in, seeing as how the gauge didn’t move in the slightest when the ignition was turned on. Eventually, after much will-she, won’t-she, the Mercedes deigned to fire up. Hoorah! That meant I could drive it out and have a good look at it for the first time.

Out she comes. Not a bad looker.

Seemed alright. A touch of corrosion in the offside rear arch but the front wings were new and the underside looked sound – especially around the front suspension mounts. We drove the short distance back to the vendor’s house, but the car started spluttering. I took it for a spin around the block. Very spluttery, but it did clear. I did the only sensible thing I could do. Handed over money and plotted the 150 mile drive home. The car refused to start and needed a jump start. This boded well!

Our journey started well. Which means that when I tried pulling out onto the main road, it died completely. I nervously reversed back around the corner with no PAS and a brake servo rapidly loosing pressure. They should teach you that on the MOT. In a car with a pedal-operated handbrake. Anyway, car parked up and we dashed off for more fuel, thinking stale unleaded might be the problem. It wasn’t, but it felt better having a fuel light off! Then it wouldn’t start again.

Skoda rescues Merc

We were at least getting quite quick at the jump-lead shenanigans now, so soon power was restored. I realised that light throttle allowed it to pull away but give it a good shove of throttle and it died in dramatic fashion. This made roundabouts very interesting but I managed to get as far as a petrol station, where I only managed to get 56 litres in. Off we limped, with a few more ‘exciting’ moments on roundabouts.

In fact, pulling onto the motorway roundabout, the car died again. I pulled onto the verge while the Skoda gave protection from the rear – a big, blue crumple zone. I got it running again and considered the insanity of driving onto a motorway in a car that was clearly very unhappy. What the hell. The sliproad went down, so that should help. Off I spluttered.

And she came good. 70mph was swiftly arrived at and everything felt good. The odd belt squeal here and there, but that eased as the miles clocked up. With a warning of OMG TRAFFIK KAOS, we came off the M6, where I discovered that this car seems to be allergic to roundabouts. We pulled into a layby where I did a hot-wheel check – no brakes binding. Excellent. However, the car stank of richness – and I don’t mean the money-type. Revving it up caused more spluttering and I now had to accelerate onto a dual carriageway. Splutter, splutter, OMGTHERESTRAFFICCOMING, splutter, vrooooom! A man could get very fed up with this.

After a spell on the A45, I decided to take us back to the M6. Roundabouts were hell and motorways tend not to have them. Problem is, they have traffic jams. Thankfully, the car behaved itself impeccably as the traffic ground to a halt. I could gawp snobbishly at the three-pointed star and ponder the lack of buttons in such an executive machine. However, there is a button that makes the rear head restraints collapse, so it’s not all bad. The temperature gauge rose to somewhere slightly above 90 degrees, but the car was entirely unflustered by our lack of progress. Given that all throttle input was minimal, there was no misfiring. I’d forgotten how awesome an automatic is in traffic. Bliss.

Soon, we got onto the M54 and I could really open the taps. By golly. 188bhp is twice what the BX turbo diesel has, in a car only 50% heavier. It’s brisk. And very civilised. I could get to like this. Then the motorway ran out and we approached Shrewsbury. Here, I could keep my speed up, even on the roundabouts thanks to good, deeply-treaded rubber. Don’t get me wrong, I was hardly getting all Ken Block in my Teutonic Barge, but if the revs stayed up, the car behaved. Then we stopped for a break.

This was a mistake as I attempted to sneak through a small gap when we restarted our journey only for the Merc to stall in the middle of a busy road. Gah! Hopefully the misfiring as I struggled to get the thing moving proved to the annoyed folk who’d had to stop that I was having problems.

Welshpool was even worse. I had to stop at a roundabout and pulling away, it just spluttered and splutter. I gave it more throttle, it died even more. I was learning now though. Don’t pump the pedal, just hold it down and it’ll pick up. Sadly for the car which was about to overtake me, it picked up at just that moment, and 188bhp launched me down the road like a stung Alsation. In fact, I then went sprinting past a truck at an indicated 70mph, at which point I spotted two Police cars in a layby. Thankfully they didn’t consider my behaviour bad enough to investigate.

I managed to get home without much further drama, but was concerned that the car might not actually have any anti-freeze in it. The coolant is entirely clear. The screenwash was certainly plain water. So, the 2CV has been turfed out of the garage and the Merc squeezed in. Tomorrow, I hope to get chance to try and investigate the misfire. The distributor is the first thing to check, though that wouldn’t make it rich, or explain why it only misfires when hitting the throttle from fully-off.

Phew! Arrived home safe and sound

It’s been an interesting week for the fleet. One car left the fleet, and appears unhappy with the situation, while the remaining pair are trying to out-do each other in the worrying-noises stakes. Naturally the only sensible option was to buy another car…

Following two days of rather frenetic work, the Green Tiger departed for pastures new yesterday (Wednesday). I somehow managed to sell it last week, during an equally busy work episode, proving that men can multi-task. Well, as long as the multi-tasks involve cars and, er, cars.

The grand sum of £250 saw the BX ready to depart. In a curious turn of events that sums up our strange, modern world, I haven’t met the chap who’s buying it at all. He sent electronic money, a mutual friend (as in some bloke we know from a funny car forum) offered to be delivery driver and so I waved goodbye to a bloke in someone else’s new car. The theory was marvellous. Mr bloke got a nice, paid-for day out, and the BX buyer got a new car delivered for a low fee.

Sadly the BX had other ideas and once across the border into England, decided it had gone far enough. The pedal box broke, meaning less and less throttle could be opened. Eventually, the car was recovered to its new home in Chesterfield. I have no idea whether the driver has made it home yet…

The BX continues to frustrate both its new owner and its recent one, by deciding not to charge any more. It has had stripes removed as punishment.

So, we were down to two cars. Not out of choice. I’d actually been looking for a new motor for the best part of a week, and was hopeless in my attempts to decide what I wanted. For most of last week, I wanted a Suzuki Cappuccino. On Saturday, I wanted a 4.5-litre Cadilliac. It was enormous and looked entirely hopeless. I liked it a lot. On Sunday, I decided a 4.5-litre V8 was a bit silly, and a 3.9-litre Discovery was a better idea. By Monday I’d realised the folly of this. Clearly an Alfa Romeo 164 Cloverleaf was a better idea. On Tuesday, I considered the benefit of all the cars I’d so far considered. On Wednesday, I said ‘no’ to the Alfa but otherwise realised that my head hurt quite a lot. Today, I purchased a Mercedes-Benz 300E. Which I haven’t seen yet. In fact, I seem to have bought it by text message. What could possibly go wrong? I’ll find out on Tuesday.

Sadly, I’d made my offer on the Mercedes before noticing that the 2CV had become rather poorly. I realised that as I made a few pre-flight checks before a trip to Devon and Somerset tomorrow. Sadly, the 2CV failed the check “make sure the engine isn’t knackered.” The flickering oil pressure light at tickover was a clue that all was not well. Sure enough, the engine feels as smooth as a hedgehog’s back. I think the big ends are on their way out.

A knackered 2CV, yesterday

That’s ok though, because I have a trusty Turbo Diesel BX to fall back on. Yeah, well, that’s making some odd noises too. Either the accumulator has suddenly lost pressure, or the pump is about to fall apart. Is it up to a bit of a road trip? I hope so.

In the meantime, I’ve got to deal with an incoming new car with only a month’s MOT on it, a 2CV in need of refurbishment of almost all of it and not enough money for all of this. Still, more interesting (and possibly cheaper) than buying a brand new car on credit.