Priscilla, Queen of the Road, is mine no longer. She was fun for a while, but a high maintenance woman (or camper van, if you want to be pernickerty). So I sold her back to the Irishman I bought her from, and am now smugly vehicle-free again.

It’s nice, now, to actually get to meetings on time – there were SO many occasions when I had to phone people to say, sorry, broken down, will be late or may not make it at all…

The worst incident was when I was moving from London up to Leeds just before Christmas. Had all my worldly goods in the back of the van. And Priscilla utterly disgraced herself on a busy roundabout – she stalled and flatly refused to restart.

I had a good idea what the problem was – she had a loose connection into the starter motor, and I knew that if I jiggled the wire I could probably get her going again. The problem was that to get to the starter motor, conveniently located underneath the bed in the back, I had to deposit aforesaid worldly goods all over the road so I could get to the engine bay.

The police found it all very amusing…

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