Wednesday, October 11, 2023: A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy!
Info:
Auto Service is not a place, but a garage.
My opinion:
After more than five months, suddenly sleeping in a real room with a real bed and a real shower was heavenly. But after two days it was enough, and I couldn’t wait to move back into Annie Way.
Diary:
At the end of March 2023, before we drove to Hamburg, Annie Way had an appointment at the specialist workshop of my mistrust, which had been highly recommended by the (ugh!) motorhome dealer. Check, service and – although it wasn’t necessary yet – definitely change the oil and filter, because there are no Fiat workshops in Canada and the USA. Oil change. That was the order.
When I picked up Annie Way, I was assured that the car was in such good condition that I would be able to enjoy it for a long time to come.
Very nice. It’s only a year old. “You changed the oil?”
“No, that wasn’t necessary yet.”
The ensuing discussion was a challenge to my good manners, but all the gentlemen who rushed over assured me that I would have no problems all the way to Alaska and back. Not one thousand percent.
Who am I to mess with highly qualified experts? Before Corona, automotive technicians were either relatives of the workshop owners or were only taken on if they had a very good grade in math. Since the workshop of my mistrust is very large, not all of them can be related to the owner.
I decided to trust them.
In Hamilton, Annie Way’s computer came on. Oil change due.
Okay.
I turned into the next garage. The gentlemen were a little overwhelmed. Which oil does Annie Way need? 0W30. They sent me 1 km further to the Chrysler garage because they had the oil.
They had the right 0W30, but no appointment available. However, the nearest Fiat garage is just up the hill.
The nearest Fiat workshop?
20 km further up I arrived at Fiat. They had already closed, but a lady was still there and told me to come in the next morning at eight o’clock and she would let me in.
The next morning at eight o’clock, Annie Way’s data was recorded and shortly afterwards she was in the workshop. I sat in the guest lounge and drank a leisurely coffee. Until I was called after an hour. They did not have 0W30 in stock. They also didn’t know how much Annie Way needed. And they couldn’t find a filter anyway. And – they had never seen anything like what Annie Way had under her hood. In a word: They didn’t dare to touch anything. But if the computer had only just responded and I only wanted to drive as far as Halifax, Annie Way would certainly still manage that.
Who am I to mess with highly qualified experts?
We turned our backs on Hamilton and returned to the Trans-Canada Highway. For some reason, Google Maps didn’t send us onto the eighteen-lane highway into the center of Toronto this time, but instead sent us around downtown. That was almost a little disappointing. I will soon receive a fine in Austria for not paying on the toll road. Normally you can pay by credit card, but there was nothing there except the repeated advice that if you don’t pay, you will be penalized.
Break in Kingston, once again at Lake Ontario. Also beautiful in the fall. Oil change due.
Past Montreal, past Quebec. Oil change due.
Two nights in Riviere-du-Loup, where I liked it so much in spring. And again: fantastic! Oil change due.
I then wanted to continue to Moncton and finally to Cape Brenton in the north of Nova Scotia. Oil change due.
On the drive on the Trans-Canada Highway towards Moncton, the yellow oil control light came on in the middle of nowhere.
I drove on, hoping fervently that the next exit would be near a larger town.
The next exit did not come. And not. But the yellow oil indicator light shone bravely against the afternoon sun,
Finally, after a long twenty minutes, an exit. But not a city. A gas station. Nothing else. Trees, a pond, a cross road. Yes, there is a garage nearby, they said at the gas station. Just one minute in this direction. Blue building on the left. But nobody is there today. Today is a public holiday.
Another public holiday?
Thanksgiving.
Okay.
On the way to the workshop, I saw the town sign: Florenceville-Bristol, the French Frie Capital of the World.
Then came a red building that looked like a typical country barn and turned out to be a potato museum.
Then a hotel.
And a few hundred meters further on there was actually a workshop.
I parked Annie Way, put a note behind the windshield with my phone number and a note that the car urgently needed an oil change, packed a few things in a Walmart shopping bag and marched down the road to the hotel. A few minutes later I entered a … yes, actually, a real room with a real bed and a real shower!
The area was beautiful, Indian summer as you would imagine it, with red maple leaves, and so I went for a walk. At some point, I did end up passing a few houses. There was also a large river. But the bridge was closed. The way it looked, it was probably in danger of collapsing.
The next morning I was once again at a garage at eight o’clock, and this time Annie Way and I were not sent away. It was no longer possible.
And lo and behold, there was a book in the waiting area. A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Great! Not read for a long time! I had to laugh so hard a few times that the workshop owner grinned too. They didn’t have the oil in stock, but it would probably arrive today. But only in the afternoon.
I went back to the hotel and extended my stay. As there were obviously no bears in the area, I could wander around as I pleased. I hadn’t done that for so long that I felt sore muscles in the evening.
Annie Way’s oil didn’t arrive on time, but the gentleman from the garage assured me that it would be there the next morning. I no longer needed to extend the hotel room.
That was a good thing, because as heavenly as it had felt at first to be in a real room with a real bed and a real shower, and as sensational as the breakfast was, I was already longing for my tiny realm in Annie Way again. To be honest, this luxury seemed almost a little decadent to me. Just like last year, when after two months in Scandinavia with Annie Way, my small apartment suddenly seemed huge.
The next day they struggled a bit with Annie Way’s computer, googling her messages, because they are in German, but they managed to make her realize that the oil had been changed. And then I paid …
Saying and writing next to nothing. And the workshop owner apologized for this. I explained to him that I had expected much more, actually much much more, because prices are higher in Austria, thanked him and went to Annie Way to stow my things from the Walmart shopping bag.
When I started, she told me cheerfully: “Oil change done.”
Exactly.
I picked up a bar of chocolate at the petrol station. There was a shelf with all kinds of oil. 0W30 was also there.
We drove to Moncton, then not to Cape Brenton, but to Hubbards near Halifax. There was a campsite by the sea.
I needed that now. Sea. Quite simply the sea.
And soon I’ll finally be reading “A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” again.
