“Yeah, he doesn’t do very much,” boomed Bruno, the mountain sized mechanic, as he threw an accusing thumb over his shoulder in my direction. It seemed a little bit harsh to me.
I had only arrived at the garage with our neighbour – also Bruno – and Charlie Charleston about an hour earlier. The yard was full of old cars and motor parts and was dusty and shadeless, so after sixty minutes of French-translated car banter and discussion about 2CVs, I had grabbed the chance to step backward into the gloom of the workshop to avoid the relentless glare and heat from the sun. Thankfully, I quickly realized that the thumbs’ accusatory trajectory was passing me by and as I turned to follow it, came face to face with a shameless, but still disinterested, horse.
He was barely a few metres away from me and so completely still and silent, the single cheval had melded into the darkness, watching impassively as big Bruno went about his business on our deux chevaux. Apparently he is a regular attendee, but clearly not much of a team player. It was a pretty unconventional garage in other ways. As an ex- mechanic I was really looking forward to getting a look underneath Charlie, when they put him up on the ramps. In this part of France, for ramps read forklift truck! Safety stands are for sissies.
The next surprise was the bill. For an hour and a half of work, including giving Charlie a full once-over, changing a tyre and a couple of other things – 10 euros. Yes, TEN euros!
Big Bruno also worked on him a second time a few days later, replacing the steering rack assembly, the control arm and king pin for the princely sum of 150 euros for parts and labour. With Bruno from El Castell still on hand to translate, we also got the stories from his father of his trips across the Sahara desert in a Peugeot 504, which he did five times – taking European 504’s to sell at African markets.
We found similar generosity in Spain a few weeks ago, and luck. Which is something of an understatement when it comes to losing brakes on a long descent down a narrow, winding mountain road, where every corner is a hairpin bend with no safety rails. Pont del Comte sits at 1800 metres and we were coming down the hill, having proudly conquered the summit earlier in the day.
Now 2CVs are real workhorses (unlike the one in Bruno’s garage), but there are some quirks that you have to learn. Firstly, their old design doesn’t work with some modern inventions – like synthetics. So, no synthetic engine oil or brake fluid. No problem until you drive it hard on a hot day and the brake fluid starts to boil and the brakes start to fail. It started with needing just a couple of pumps on the pedal to get a response, then three pumps, four pumps till after a few kilometers I was tapping my foot faster than a fiddler at a hillbilly hoe-down. So, as we hit the town of St Lorenc de Morunys, pumping away at the less-than-ideally responsive brake pedal, we rolled passed a garage with a sunshine yellow 2CV sitting outside. Surely, a sign! I don’t speak French, but I was able to communicate with the mechanic with lots of pointing, hand gestures and my best mime of driving a car with no brakes. When you don’t know the language, just keep smiling and making an ass of yourself. I thought the brake fluid was contaminated and asked if he could flush the system. The mechanic was great, he stopped what he was doing to work on our car.
Two plates of tapas, and a couple of hours later we were on our way again, with cheery waves from the owners and offers to come visit any time! Two hours labour, new brake fluid and adjusting the rear brakes, total cost a ridiculously low thirty euros! Cheap bills and cheery service seem to be the norm when you drive a 2CV. The next day we dropped by the Citroen garage in Solsona to ask about getting repairs for a hole in the exhaust we have had for a while. Sure, bring it in tomorrow morning. We had bought some new exhaust parts when we were in Alcaniz , so as well as welding the hole, they also fitted the new section. Again – a pretty cheap bill, friendly, fast service and we were on our way again. Charlie Charleston has been in good hands right from the start. I confess to a slight bias, but from the ever-generous Johan in Amsterdam , even though he looks a little crazy here:
to those we met just passing through….. mechanics are bloody great people.
What a great story. Not being much of a team player myself, I’m all for staying in the shade and watching others work, so yay the horse.
Nice writing Geoff.
Chris.