The people of Travellers Auto Barn have decided to make our lives a misery. We should have been out of Sydney on Tuesday morning, heading up into the Blue Mountains with the wind in our hair and a hole in our wallets. Instead we just have the hole.
We bought our beautiful little Toyota Tarago last Tuesday, and they said it would be ready possibly by the Friday. Called Friday, and they said Saturday. They called us Saturday to say Monday. Called Monday morning, they said come in at 3. Came in at 3, they said 4, at which point I suggested they call me when it was ready (there are other things I could have suggested, but I am too much of a gentleman to insult these wankers).
Finally we get back to the shop at 5pm, where we are soundly ignored for about an hour whilst all the other customers are ploughed through, probably to cover for the fact that the bloody van still wasn't ready. The paperwork takes forever, then the little beastie finally pulls up outside, and we get given a tour by German shop git Eric, who fails dismally to show us how to get the seat up and get at the engine, where to put oil in, how to get the petrol cap open, etc. He has to call on Dieter (that's not his name, but he needs one, so there you go), his little blonde friend to give us the proper tour. We finally leave at 7.30pm, late for dinner with Rob and Jude.
Next morning, Cat pulls up outside the hostel to pick up our stuff, and it's screaming in Neutral and Drive. Sob. We park it up, then decide to take it back to the workshop these guys have, to take a look at it. Dave, the mild mannered English bloke in charge, comes out and immediately diagnosis the problem - Eric, the German jerk, has showed us the wrong key, and we're managing to start the van with the wrong key, which is not making the starter motor very happy. ERIC, YOU BASTARD, IF YOU EVER READ THIS, I WILL HUNT AND KILL YOUR YOUNG IF IT TAKES ME UNTIL THE END OF TIME - HUMANITY MUST BE PROTECTED FROM YOU AND YOUR SPAWN.
Then we leave, hahahoho, silly travellers. Get half a kilometre from the workshop when the temperature gauge says something like "Dear God, help me fella, I'm on fire", and so round we go, back to the workshop. Less amused this time, it takes Dave and his band of merry idiots 2 hours to diagnose the problem - it's blown a head gasket, and as I've managed to do this to 2 previous cars, I know we're in for a wait. Unbelievably, Dave assures us he'll have us out of Sydney on Wednesday afternoon, and takes us up to a hostel, where they pay for our overnight stay.
Next day, we call early, and Dave tells us that it may need longer for parts, so we should book in for another day, on their wallet. Fine.
Thursday, we faff around for the day waiting for it to be ready, manage to leave about 5.45pm, and race across Sydney to get to a campground in time. Which we do. Huzzah. Once we've got the gate code, we head out to Woolworths (food store, rather than the crappy UK one) and do some shopping. Coming out of the car park on a slope, the van keeps cutting out, and we are understandably pissed.
Helped out by the NRMA (Aussie AA), we crawl back to the campground for the night. Next morning, the van won't start again, so we get a tow back to the workshop. Rudeness floating around our heads, Cat informs Dave that we won't be taking the van, but somehow we agree to check out anything else that we can leave in on Friday. So we end up with a Ford Falcon, smaller than we wanted, and we have to camp now rather than sleeping in the van. But it seems to be working. For now.
So, free advice. If you ever hear a recommendation for Travellers Auto Barn, write it down in thick ink on a large stick, ask the recommender to turn around and bend over, and jam that stick where the badness comes from. Thanks for your time.
