Car Trouble

Finding a good garage can be a challenge, especially if you are a blonde woman without a husband, boyfriend, brother or father in tow. It doesn't matter if the aforementioned male knows diddly-squat about cars and the blonde is a rocket scientist, but mechanics will always assume that the man is a fellow car-enthusiast, and they are less likely to try and pull the wool over a woman's eyes when explaining what exactly is wrong with the car if there is a man in the vicinity.

Just before my last car did somersaults on the motorway last December, it failed its MOT inspection. Apparently it didn't have rear fog lights - it was an import from a country which presumably didn't experience fog, but I didn't discover this until it failed the MOT. After being given the runaround by the franchise garage (the garage which sold me the car three years before having gone into receivership) I decided to try my luck with one in Welling.

The mechanics could have taken me to the cleaners: I know little about cars (there are 4 wheels on the outside, one in the boot and one to hold on to when going round corners) and even less about electrical wiring of fog lights, but they told me that the wiring was actually all in place, just not connected up, and so I only needed to get a red bulb to convert one of the reversing lights rather than having to invest in a new bumper... or even a new car!

So, when my next car was due for its service, I returned to the same garage. Unfortunately, after the service, the occasional quiet grindy-type noise which I'd detected a couple of times became rather less quiet and much less occasional. So back I went. I went with someone for a test drive ("my car is making a grindy noise" not being the most technical of descriptions) and was told that it was probably a heat shield on the exhaust which was vibrating, and it had probably been knocked out of place further by the service.

So, the offending part was knocked back into place. I drove off happily. And then turned round and drove back, because the noise had reappeared.

This time it was decided that brackets were needed to fix the offending item to the underside of the car. I think it was something to do with the exhaust. Or maybe the cat. My look of blank incomprehension must have convinced the garage owner of the futility of explaining further. After an hour, I was assured that all was well, the problem had been sorted and I was free to go.

I drove off happily in the direction of Sidcup to pick up a friend who had volunteered to help me spring clean (she must be barking, but she says she enjoys housework, and who am I to deprive her of her simple pleasures!) By the time I reached the station, I realised that all was not well, the problem hadn't been sorted and I drove back to the garage.

Finally they figured it out. I don't quite understand what the problem was, but the noise has stopped, so it's fixed now!