15 Twattin Euros
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Holiday in Holland – the return….
After the huge success of the 2004 tour to Holland, it was inevitable that there
would be a return trip, the only questions being who was going, and for how
long. Simmo decided that he
wouldn’t be returning this year, which was good news for Neville if he was
going, but Dawsey stepped into the breech and made a vociferous locum.
The format for the weekend was as previously, although we decided to
have an extra day in Holland. Leaving
Leicester at 11 (the 10 o’clock suggested start time was considered optimistic
by all parties, and proved to be the case!), we set off, calling in to get
German Jimmy’s machine MOTed. The
journey was pretty unadventurous, a couple of stops for fuel, fags & coffee,
arriving in Cambridge at around half 12. While waiting at a garage, Jimmy uttered the immortal and
fateful words, “we’re making good time.”
To be fair, the next 200 yards or so confirmed that all was well, but as
we got deeper into Cambridge, the scoots disappeared through the traffic,
waiting for the van to catch us up when we called in at the next services.
Anyway, we got there, and waited, but no sign of the van, instead we got
a text from Eileen “call me urgently”.
Now Eileen isn’t that much of a drama queen, so we thought that they
might have a bit of a problem, which she confirmed when Jimmy spoke to her –
the van had no brakes! They’d
struggled to Histon, but were going no further, so Jimmy and me went back to see
what was going on – the fact that ‘Histon’ is an anagram on ‘no shit’
won’t have gone unnoticed with crossword devotees, and the irony won’t be
lost on them either.
After a few detours we found the van, but not the brakes, so we called into a
local garage. Initially, the
mechanic thought the brakes looked fine, so maybe it was just us being picky in
hoping that they would meet their job description and actually stop the van.
He did give one diagnosis, which alas was not fixable on the day, leaving
us with a real problem. John Gray
from the McDonalds where we’d left the other scoots, and who by now were being
harangued by gypsies for infringing on their squatter’s rights, suggested we
have the van recovered to Harwich and sort it out there.
Seemed like a good plan, so the 4 scoots that were South of Cambridge set
off for Harwich on the A1307, and Jimmy and me set off for Harwich down the A14,
meeting the other party on the A120, having passed Taxi in a service station,
all claiming not to have seen the only purple scoot on the road that day??
At the port, Thommo’s scoot decided that it would work better with a loose
stator plate, so it was hauled into the van, along with dad’s as he’d
decided that his chopper was too uncomfortable to ride further than was
necessary. In many ways, this was a
good plan, as between Cambridge and Harwich, the speedo had rattled itself free
from the scoot. Unfortunately, this
wasn’t the only incident of things dropping off the chopper: the headlight
freed itself, followed by the tax disc. Dunney
was very sympathetic towards dad’s plight – until he totally blotted his
copybook by announcing that on Saturday night he’d been struggling to get to
sleep, but that he soon dropped off after sitting sat on dad’s scoot….
comfortably the best gag of the weekend!!
Back to the journey…after the van was taken off the breakdown truck, the
brakes appeared to have been miraculously restored, so things were looking
better – that is until they failed again when it was time to take it on to the
ferry. Dad managed to get it on as
by now, the scoots were already aboard. A
meal and a few beers on board, and so ended day 1.
Next morning after a continental breakfast we disembarked with
trepidation, wondering what would be the status of the van’s brakes.
Jimmy drove the van off and declared that they were fine – a couple of
turns round the car park confirmed this, so we decided to set out, with Thommo
& Jimmy taking it in turns on dad’s chopper.
The plan was to go via Rotterdam. Taxi
& Stretch weren’t keen to travel at the same speeds as the Lambrettas, so
they sat at the rear, followed by the van.
When we called into the services we had a text from Eileen, this time
with a two-part message, firstly that they were lost, and secondly that the
brakes had gone again!! It was
decided that dad would try and get the van to the services that we were at, so
we could have a proper look at it – I know that there were a couple of
heart-stopping moments on the way, so special praise to dad for getting it and
its contents to us in one piece.
John Gray had a look at the brakes in true James Herriott style, with
his arms up to his elbows in the innards of the van, announcing that the master
cylinder was ‘bollocksed’. This
was a huge problem, as no one had Euro cover; the solution was to pay an
exorbitant amount to the equivalent of the Dutch AA for towing the van to
Utrecht, and sourcing & fitting a new part.
Worse still was the receipt of the petition from Dutch gypsies for
occupying their site in the services. With
the van now being sorted, and with us all having purchased shares in it, we
decided that the scoots would continue on their way, this time with Taxi &
Stretch in the convoy, which worked better.
At the final fuel stop before the rally, dad’s scoot decided that it
had finally had enough, and loosened its end plate.
The van was still being repaired in Utrecht, so we decided that the best
plan was for 5 scoots to get to the rally, borrow a van, and come back for
dad’s scoot. The first part of
the plan worked ok, the second part less so.
Loggie and me borrowed a van from AFSC on condition that we picked up
Ravey Davey as his lay shaft had sheared, but as it was in a circular route to
get to dad’s scoot it seemed reasonable, which it would have been had we not
allowed for the ‘s’ factor. In
this case ‘s’ stands for squaddie, who with precision army training managed
to pinpoint Ravey for us, except that he’d got the wrong town!!
After an hour and a half’s fruitless search, a situation compounded by
the fact that Ravey had no credit on his mobile to answer our calls and texts,
we gave up looking and returned to the rally.
Another search party set out for him and eventually returned with their
quarry.
The good news for us was that our van was up and running (although I
know that the van’s occupants were a little uneasy when the mechanic asked how
the master cylinder fitted!!) and by a sheer fluke had managed to call into the
same services where dad’s scoot was laid up, so they were able to load it and
bring it with them. Just as the van
arrived, it started to rain, so capping the longest two days that I’ve
experienced in scootering: we calculated the average speed of our journey to be
10 miles an hour!! Just time for a
couple of glasses of beer before crashing out….
Day three was good, the sun shone, we revisited the bars we’d been to last
year, paid the rally entry fee (the report title lets you know how much
according to Dunney), and Taxi & Stretch went to Germany.
Jimmy decided that the trip hadn’t cost enough so far and contributed
further to the Dutch Exchequer by way of a speeding ticket.
The Speed Demons realised that the police were out in force and chalked a
notice to people leaving the site “Police doing speed and alcohol” – nice
work if you can get it!!
Day four was similar to day three, apart from rain during the night and
Dunney’s tent converting itself into a paddling pool, with Dunney inside.
One good thing about this for Dunney was that the ant fair and horsefly
AGM that had replaced last year’s wasp convention weren’t able to get to him
without the aid of life rafts, and instead concentrated on easier prey, some of
who got quite attached to them and brought home their own ant safari.
Day five was time to visit Arnhem. After
waiting all morning for the rain to subside, we decided that it wasn’t going
to, so we packed up in the wet. The
scoots set off to fill up, well except for Thommo who’d sorted his stator but
lost his gears, but this was soon fixed, so we were ready for the short trip –
except that we then had dad going the wrong way in the van, back to he garage as
the brakes had stopped working again. The good news was that it was down to the mechanic not
tightening one of the hoses properly, so a couple of turns with Loggie’s
spanner soon had things put right. Time
to head off again, just as the rain really started.
The journey was comparatively uneventful, seeing a sign for ‘Midget
golf’ set imaginations racing but not sufficiently to encourage further
investigation, and we made Arnhem in around an hour. En route we saw a few scoots, including a couple camping
under a bridge on the dual carriageway. Once
in Arnhem, we found our hotel fairly quickly, secured the scoots in the
underground garage and chilled for a while.
Later in the afternoon, a few of us went to see John Frost Bridge and a
couple of memorials, which was both interesting and sobering.
A meal in town then a couple of glasses of beer were enough for me, and I left
the others to the evening, luckily Dunney managed to regale me of the night’s
events when he came in at half two, including the exploits of Mudfish.
Day six was get up, enjoy a continental breakfast, and head for the
Hook, after saying farewell to Taxi & Stretch who were staying on for
another week. No major mishaps en
route, no one got lost, slight problem with the turquoise panzer, but all was
sorted when we got to the port. Riding
onto the boat felt good, though the number of scooters was significantly less
than last year. The seven-hour
cruise home was slow, even with two meals, and we were all glad to get off at
Harwich. After filling up and
getting riding gear sorted we set off for Leicester.
No real traumas on the way, a picturesque detour of Cambridge being the
highlight. It was good to finally
arrive home at 1 in the morning!!
In summary, it was a typical rally. We’ve
all got some memories of it, and I’m sure they’ll get funnier as time
progresses. The van was a problem,
but at the end of the day, we’ve paid £30 each for using it twice now so I
don’t think that’s a bad deal at all. Eileen
summed up it when she said that sitting whilst in the lay-by in Holland, we
experienced every emotion. I could
pick out individuals and say so-and-so was really helpful at a particular time,
but I think that over the six days we all contributed in our own ways and made
the trip what it was: a mixture of piss-take, laughter, bottom-lip dropping,
riding scooters and generally refusing to grow up!!
All we’ve got to do is decide where we go next year….
I-Spy