A 1964 MGB, Hartlepool down to Kent, top down, sun out - what could go wrong?
We had a night out in Newcastle to prepare for the open road. This boozer's in the station, top tiles.
Who needs a jukebox when you can have Artie Shaw playing very quietly on a gramaphone.
The evening then took a slightly surreal turn when we headed back to Hartlepool.
Yes, that is how they served the beer!
The barmaid was a bit ruff.
The karaoke was in full swing when everything went a bit Brian Potter-esque.
'Jolene', if you're interested.
A sight we'd see more than once! The car wasn't running as smoothly as it should've been, so Phil changed this, that and the other. Off we headed, but it still wasn't performing, so back under the hood. This was the pattern for a few miles. Time for a pit stop at Guy's place in York.
We had a nice cup of tea and were about to head to a garage to pick up a new coil, when...
For various reasons we didn't have a tax disc and this eagle-eyed PCSO spotted it. For a few scary moments we thought the car might get impounded, but she let us off with a ticket. She was very apologetic about the whole thing. Bless.
We followed Guy to pick up the new part, fingers crossed.
Coil fitted, we headed off. About a mile down the road we heard a weird noise from the engine, we'd forgotten to put the dipstick back in and it was rattling round under the bonnet. What a bunch of numbnuts!
But again, it still wasn't running properly. There was only one thing we hadn't changed - the condenser. So, hood up again. And thankfully it worked. It ran like a dream the rest of the way.