Can you guess what it is from the picture? It’s a driveshaft. Not very exciting to most people I suppose, but if you’d been waiting six weeks for the bloody thing to turn up, you might see it my way.

For those who don’t know what one is, and who care, and who are reading this (a very small group of people indeed), it’s a bit of a car. The end on the right goes into the diff, and the end on the left bolts into the wheel hub. In between are two CV joints and 10kg of metal. Any the wiser now? Or more excited?

The plan was to get it fitted at the garage, but I’ve waited so long I’ve decided to do it myself. We’ll see how that turns out. Bearing in mind that the first hurdle is to get the drain and fill plugs out of the diff (notoriously sticky, and haven’t moved since 1985), the most likely outcome is that I either give up right there, wrench the car off the jack stands trying to shift them, or blow myself into the middle of next week waving a blowtorch around under the fuel tank.

The rest of the job looks pretty easy though, so I might find myself driving triumphantly up and down the road before the weekend is out. Then, sooner or later, it will be time to do the other side.

A bonnet. Or a hood, if you speak the U.S. dialect. Interestingly, both are things you might put on your head. I wonder if the French open up the beret to check the oil. They don’t, I’m only joking, they open le capot, which isn’t anything you’d put on your head in any language I don’t think. On the other hand, a capote is a cloak with a hood, and I definitely remember seeing the capote anglaise worn as headgear during my schooldays.

Anyway, despite starting by going off on a tangent, the title of this post is actually very literal. Tim Bray followed up an excellent write-up on OOXML with a post on reflections, punctuated with a nice “reflection in a bonnet” picture, making me realise how many pictures I have in that rather odd category. So for your viewing pleasure (or perhaps just my own amusement, you decide), I dug out a couple.

Nationwide Autocentres, Harrogate

Summary: Hurrah

I know I shouldn’t have gone anywhere near one of these places after the experience at their Manchester branch, and the price quoted at the Leeds one. However, we’ve taken our various cars here many times and they’ve never put a foot wrong. At a cost of £69, I drove in, the wheel bearing got fitted in no time, and I drove away happily listening to the engine purring rather than the hub grinding away. The end.

(I really wasn’t taking any chances this time mind you – I went with a shiny new set of bearings in the glove compartment in case of any shennanigans, but they weren’t required.)

This ought to be the last mention of wheel bearings for a long time, but unfortunately the same wheel bearing on Nibby’s car is making an unpleasant noise now. With any luck though, there will be nothing worth writing about that.

Here’s what we have for episode one:

Kwik-Fit, Harrogate

Summary: Don’t bother

Booked in several days in advance for wheel bearing replacement, to be done in the morning and picked up just after lunch. I dropped the car off at opening time, 8:30am, and having heard nothing at all by nearly lunchtime, phoned to find they hadn’t even ordered the part yet. They called back shortly afterwards to say they’d now ordered it, but needed to keep the car until five o’clock. This was highly inconvenient, but I agreed. They also said it needed a tyre – news to me, but I said replace that while you’re at it then.

At 5:15, after a walk across Harrogate from the point where I managed to get a lift to, I was just about to arrive at Kwik-fit when I got a phone call from them. The wheel bearing “just didn’t turn up, do I want my car back tonight?” I said that I did, and continued to Kwik Fit where I waited half an hour for them to put a wheel back on. I then paid for the tyre, and the car was brought off the ramp still sporting the same 4 tyres it went in with. “Bloody hell, I told him to put the tyre on before he went home.” It was suggested that I “come back another day” to get the tyre that I’d paid for fitted, but of course I declined and got my money refunded.

In the meantime, I can’t figure out which of the four good tyres they failed to rip me off for.

Nationwide Autocentres, Ardwick, Manchester

Summary: Avoid like the plague

Following the previous day’s fiasco, I wasn’t taking any chances. I phoned ahead and explained that I needed this doing today and had to drive back to Yorkshire that evening, so if they didn’t have the time or couldn’t get the part, could they please say so straight away so I would have the opportunity to take it somewhere else. No problem, said the manager. This conversation was then repeated in person when I dropped the car off.

Several hours later, having heard nothing, I thought I’d pop round and see what was going on. The car hadn’t moved from where I’d parked it, so I asked the manager what was happening. He said he’d “get one of the lads to look at it when they’d finished what they were doing”. I asked if he’d ordered the part yet, expressing the same concerns as earlier. “No, but the part won’t be a problem” he said. I wasn’t convinced, and he said “Ok, I’ll ring them now”.

A couple of hours later, I had a quick sneaky look which confirmed what I now suspected – the car still hadn’t moved.

Finally, at nearly 4pm, they phoned me to tell me that they had a part but it might not be the right one, so if they were to try and fit it and it was wrong, they would have to keep the car overnight, something they already knew was impossible. The manager claimed there were two possible parts, and he only had one, the other being out of stock, although this story changed several times as he continued to contradict himself and blatantly lie. He couldn’t adequately explain why he didn’t attempt source the part 7 hours earlier, nor why he didn’t even know what part he needed. I put a stop to the conversation when he eventually pointed out to me that “I had nothing to complain about”.

Motosave, Regent Street, Leeds

Summary: What’s the point?

Following the previous days’ fiascos, I wasn’t taking any chances. I phoned ahead and explained exactly what part was needed, and that I wanted to be sure they had it. “No problem at all”, they said.

I arrived at the agreed time, and not to long after, they got me to pull the car up on to the ramps, and the mechanic agreed, “yes, you need a wheel bearing there.” He proceeded to explain that it would be impossible to do it this afternoon though, because he wouldn’t be able to get the part as all their suppliers were closed for the afternoon due to the impending Easter break. The mind boggles as to why this wasn’t mentioned on the phone, instead of “No problem at all” which means something entirely different to me. Anyway, another complete waste of time.

Nationwide Autocentres, Leeds

Summary: Thanks but no thanks

Not that I intended taking the car here (see above), but I was passing so I thought I’d call in just for my own amusement. £161 was quoted, no mention of confusion about two different parts, needless to say, because there aren’t two, and they did score some points for saying they couldn’t get the part that day. The amusingness of that price though, will only become clear in episode two, so tune in next time for more gripping drama.

When I started it up yesterday, I noticed it was idling at nearly 1500rpm instead of the more sensible 900. I wasn’t particularly concerned, but then on the motorway, cruising at an apparent 5550rpm, it dawned on me that the tachometer must be counting ignition pulses and the six cylinder engine is sending more than the tachometer I took out of the 4-cylinder version is expecting. I drove on, smugly dividing the reading by 1.5 and thinking about fixing it later.

In the meantime, I’ve opened all the windows due to the overpowering smell of oil, and they stay that way until I remember that I didn’t reconnect the oil pipe to the back of the instrument cluster properly. As a consequence, oil is leaking from the connection and following a complex path leading to a point directly above my left foot. Nothing in these cars happens by accident, and I’m sure the German engineers rigged this on purpose – since it’s an automatic they know exactly where my foot is going to be. Their plan worked anyway, and I’ve reconnected the pipe as they intended it.

On the plus side, my trainers came out of the washing machine cleaner than before. They stink of oil still, but that’s an improvement on the previous odour.

In the absence of anything else to write about, I thought I’d chart the progress of my latest in a long series of Mercedes W123′s. This one is a 280CE, which is my first coupe – previously they’ve all been saloons. I think by anyone’s standards she’s a real beauty, especially for a 22-year old banger.

As of now the mileage reads 130565, but before lunch it said 124544. This isn’t the result of a long journey, but of me replacing the instrument cluster with the one out of my spares car. The original featured two classic W123 faults, a stuck odometer and a bouncing speedo needle. Normally, the needle bounces at low speeds only, and this indicates a worn cable. This one bounced at all speeds though, and it turned out to be the unit itself, which I’ll now (i.e. ‘someday’) repair with the help of this.

I can only guess how long it’s read 124544, but it isn’t really important with a car of this age anyway. What matters is that any major faults have so far managed to keep themselves hidden, although I haven’t really had time to look very hard yet.

I estimate I’ve done about 200 miles in it so far. Hopefully the car will do the counting from now on.

“We’re not running a bloody museum” apparently. This could easily be a complaint about the large collection of 1980′s home computers, but they stay far enough out of sight to avoid this kind of misguided wrath. They’re also relatively small compared to the real target, which is cars. Unless you’re a rock star or a car dealer, it must be a rare event in anyone’s life to own three examples of their favourite model of car. That’s the temporary situation I find myself in though, so I thought I would celebrate with a picture that I can look back on when the excess motors have been reluctantly sold off.