Well, almost 5 months on and approaching the next Europpomeet I thought it was high time that I told the tale of my ill-fated expedition to Wales. Hold onto your seats, this one’s a goodun...

So, we last leave the action here, having worked until 2am getting the Fiat and Citroen sorted, and not quite getting the Midget running in the morning. Still, my mate could borrow my MG F now that the Fiat’s good to go so off we go! In the convoy here we have my two mates in the F and the turbo MX5, the mysterious Dr Canard in the BRZ, me in the X1/9, my sister in her graffiti-can-painted MX5, and Duurtlang in my BX.

Off we go!

The BRZ and Citroen headed straight for Wales, but me and the rest of the gang had a concert in York to go to so we parted ways. The journey up to York was uneventful...which is about the only time I can use that word to describe anything during the trip.

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Not bad for a motorway service station...

All goes swimmingly...until...

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Bonnet up...that’s not usually a good sign on a diesel Citroen...

What’s that suspicious looking puddle Duurtlang’s just sent me?

And so it begins...

Duurtlang wisely left the BX at the cottage that day and hitched a ride in the BRZ for that day. Our little convoy arrives around 10pm-ish, and we’re straight under the Citroen. Hum. Looks like LHM to me (the hydraulic fluid Citroens use for suspension, brakes and power steering).

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Over drinks that evening...we devise a plan.

Yours truly in the hippy jacket...

Stick around, part 2 coming soon!