luckycanuck

It's after 11:00pm and I've just arrived home.

I was up early in the morning to pick up dad from the airport. We are in the same country again for the first time since last December. Terry, my sister's father in law has also come out to Australia for the first time. With four sets of hands we will surely get a lot done around the Collaroy Castle.

Dad and I took Terry for a drive around the northern beaches, all the way up to Palm Beach before stopping at the Newport Arms for lunch and a discussion on some of the perilously unstable shoes being worn by some of the women in attendance. Apparently there was some kind of big horse race today. The Melbourne Something. I saw it but didn't really pay attention.

Shortly after the race I packed up the car and headed off. Dad and Terry (and possibly Uncle Robert) are going to visit Canberra at some point whilst they are here, but for now a visit of about six hours will have to suffice.

I'm the one on the right. The good looking one.

There was heaps of traffic on the way home. There were breakdowns on the eastern distributor, and in the M5 tunnel. The pace was slow and frustrating but people seemed to be taking it all well.

And then I joined the ranks of the broken down. My car is nothing flash, but I have it serviced regularly and it has been dependable for me. Still, when it gets hot (and it hit 39 degrees today) sometimes the engine cuts out. Dad, who knows more about this than I do, reckoned it was vapour lock (i.e. the petrol turning from liquid to gas before it gets to the engine thus interrupting the fuel flow.) It has happened before, but only on very hot days.

Whatever the cause, I was on the M5 in heavy traffic and I couldn't move. As luck would have it, I was just in front of a breakdown bay but couldn't move. I could have pushed the car, but I needed someone to sit in the drivers seat and steer, and nobody was stopping. I flicked on my hazard lights and the drivers behind me drove around. Most just went about their business, but one passeger in a taxi (perhaps returning home in a drunken and belligerent state from the races) threw something out of the window and hit my car.

Shortly thereafter a truckie stopped and told me to steer whilst he pushed me back towards the breakdown bay. Everyone stopped as I was pushed out of traffic (although I nearly collided with a car that was tring to pull out from behind me.) I could have done without his swearing and assurances that I was a "f*cking idiot" but at least he stopped to help get me out of the worst position I could have possibly been in.

Then it was just waiting for things to cool down enough to let the fuel move again. Every couple of minutes I tried again but there was no luck to be had. I rang the NRMA and they promised to have someone there within 90 minutes, so I waited and rang friends so I would have someone to talk to as I roasted on the side of the highway. I spoke briefly to bakerypenguin and minxyminou and Dad in the hopes of calming my nerves and venting my frustration.

And only about 50 minutes after my first breakdown, I managed to get the car started again. Yes, I hit vapour lock for six (eventually.)

I popped by to visit Minxyminou as we had arranged, but the coffee hour had passed to I was promoted to steak. I wonder if it was a way of calming me down so there weren't any cases of road rage. Because I am very erratic and violent you know.

This was supposed to be a day off. So why am I so tired?

Tomorrow off to work again, but only a three day week.