Tag Archives: motel centre ville

Friday 27th September 2019 – I’M BACK …

… at Rachel’s house tonight.

But, unfortunately, Strider isn’t. He’s parked up at the tyre depot with “an issue” and I need to look at it properly this morning.

At the motel this morning I started him up and put him in gear … and nothing happened. The cable had become detached from the gear selector. With some help from a nearby guy I managed to put the cable back on and I drove him gingerly back to the depot.

But as usual, I was the last one out and when I went to put him in gear it came off again. But this time, he was in second gear and I was on my own so I couldn’t move the gear lever AND couple up the cable.

Apart from that I was lying on my back on a rough gravel surface rather than a comfortable paved surface, and the exhaust was this time thoroughly stinking hot so I have a nice big burn on my lower arm.

With it being stuck in second I could in theory have driven him, but there’s an inhibitor that prevents you from starting the car when it’s in gear. So I was looking for the wires to disconnect on the inhibitor when Rachel turned up to see where I was.

So that’s a job for tomorrow, on a ramp.

Last night’s sleep was exceptional. I was in bed at 21:00 and stark out until 06:00. Tons of stuff on the dictaphone so I wonder where I was and what I had been doing. And, even more importantly, to whom I was doing it?

Leaving the bed early, I did quite a lot of work before leaving the motel. And then we had the difficulty.

Taking it easy, I fuelled up Strider immediately and headed for home. And, once more, I was the only one keeping to the speed limit. Everyone else was going past me as if I was standing still.

Now I’m back at Rachel’s. I’ve had tea and I’m in bed. I’ll look at Strider tomorrow. But once more I’m impressed. Just a tiny fraction under half a tank (but that’s meaningless of course) and 396kms on the clock.

So hats off to him for that performance.

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Thursday 26th September 2019 – HERE I AM …

… sitting on a bed in another one of these places where you don’t rent the room for the night, you buy the motel.

Last night I was dead to the world and slept right the way through the night until the alarm went off without disturbing myself once. There was the tail-end of a dream going round and round my head so I managed to dictate that – such as it was – before it disappeared completely. Nothing exciting though, unfortunately.

Having done a few things, I went upstairs to the kitchen and tried to make a coffee. Eventually, I managed to figure out the machine so that was good.

Sandra came to join me later and we had breakfast and a good chat. Then I had a shower and packed Strider ready to leave. We swapped the cars over and I headed off into the torrential rainstorm.

I was right about the turn of the cards – my wish hadn’t come true. But then I never really expected that it would. But the combination of Ottawa and the events of the past six weeks together with a music track appearing on my playlist and a “memory” about my farm all collided together at a vulnerable moment and I ended up in a deep, deep depression that has followed me around all day and won’t go away.

The weather didn’t help of course, and neither did the roadworks. It took an age to negotiate myself out of Ottawa and I must have passed the same guy on the same street corner three times until I had come to terms with the roadworks.

On the highway the rain was dreadful and the first of a long, long set of roadworks put the evil eye on just about everything. I was soaked going to the bathroom, soaked fuelling up Strider and then in Montreal amidst the major road reconstructions there I ended up being unable to join the lane that I wanted due to standing traffic. I was pushed sideways to the west and instead of going up Highway 40 and over the ferry at Sorel, I ended up on Highway 15 and over the new Champlain Bridge.

So here I was and here I stayed.

I stopped off for a coffee at Tim Horton’s at St Hyacinthe, home of many a tractor pull, and then continued through the storm.

At Quebec I misread a sign (Riviere du Loup for Trois Rivieres) and ended up going over the Laporte bridge by mistake. I had to turn round and fight the rush-hour traffic to pick up my route again.

So here I am in Montmagny and here I’m staying for the night. The Motel Centre-Ville. I’ll have a good night, a shower in the morning and then continue on my way.

So if anyone wants to contact me, don’t be shy. I have another three weeks here at least.

And who knows? This wish might even come true. You never know.

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