Along the Ridge

After all the reflection and anticipation, the new van is here!  On Thursday morning, instead of going in to work as usual, I had a leisurely breakfast and then drove the van to the parking space that's nearest to my door.  I then made several passes from van to bedroom, and succeeded (I thought) in getting all my stuff out of the van, ready to drive the sixteen miles or so to the showroom where my new acquisition had been serviced and MOT'd, and was now awaiting the proximity of the other van to undergo a radio transfusion. 

... like moving house!

I took a final look at the bedroom, where there were boxes all over floor and bed, and bigger items strewn nearby - and hoped that I'd be back in time to remove all the clutter before the inspection lady should arrive.

The need for the radio transfusion stems from the discovery a couple of years ago that the mp3-player app on my new mobile phone could use the radio I'd bought for the last van, using a simple cable and the 'auxiliary input' socket.  I then changed my music/podcast software from iTunes to Media Go, gave away my iPod, and thenceforward have used one item instead of two.  In point of fact that should read 'instead of three', for on occasion I had forgotten to switch on my hands-free device in the van, and didn't realise until I went to switch it off at the end of a journey, and found that I switched it on instead!  After two or three such discoveries, I left it off deliberately, and have since removed it.  I can hear what people are saying to me through the radio, and they can hear me because the microphone of the phone is strong enough to hear my voice directly if I lean slightly towards it.

I had been advised the previous day that the showroom could accommodate me at 11.0 am.  As I drove there on Thursday morning I encountered unexpected roadworks, and the resulting delay made me a few minutes late.  I needn't have worried, for they weren't exactly ready for me, and there was a delay for a passage to be cleared through the yard before ever the van could get to the workshop, let alone have the work done.  I can't fault their service, however.  Not only did they offer to transfer the radio instead of leaving me to either find a new one with the same capabilities or pay someone for the transfer, but they also provided me with a new MOT, despite there being several months remaining on the old one. 

When the subject of taxing the vehicle came up, and I mentioned that my broker had e-mailed the cover note to me (and said what good job that was, because the original, posted first class in Wigan on Wednesday, hadn't arrived), he explained that the Post Office wouldn't accept an e-mailed copy (or photocopy) cover note - it had to be the original, and he offered to tax the van for me.  That meant that, once the radio transfer was complete, I could be on my way.

While I was waiting, I thought it would be a good idea to contact the recovery people and get my cover updated for the new vehicle.  Normally it's simply a case of noting the new registration no. and the type and colour of the vehicle, but this time there was an additional enquiry.  'Tell me, sir, will you be using this van for business?' 'Yes.' 'And what is the nature of the business?' 'Courier.'  'Ah! Sorry, we won't be able to cover you in that case.'  My protestations that, not only had I been covered by them for the past ten years, but had actually been recovered twice while actually on my way to make deliveries and had to get someone else to collect the goods from me, counted for nothing.  As a gesture of great magnanimity, it seemed, they took the details of the new van and said they'd 'honour the terms of the policy' up to its expiry date, but wouldn't renew it. And I was supposed to be grateful?

By the time this conversation was over, the van was ready and I departed.  Not that all was plain sailing, however.  With no SatNav, I wasn't sure how to get home again whilst avoiding those roadworks - and then I noticed a darling little pink light flashing at me from the dashboard - I was virtually out of fuel!  The nearest filling station wasn't one that would accept my fuel cards, so I had to pay the higher price for all of the 51 litres it took to fill it up!

I noted above that I thought I'd got all my stuff out of the old van.  Whilst driving to the showroom I happened to start off on a slope; the motion jerked my sunglasses out of their hidey hole, and I popped them into my coat pocket.  While I was waiting to be loaded for the only job I did that afternoon, I realised that I'd also left a set of four securing straps in the back of the old van.  I rang the showroom and arranged to visit them this morning to exchange the spare key (which I'd also forgotten) for the straps, and explained where they were.  When I got there this morning, I was told that they'd hunted all round the van and couldn't find the straps.  I went to the van and got them out straight away - from the one place they hadn't looked: the back of the van; they'd only searched the cab!

Apart from the few differences that are to be expected between one model and another that's three or four years newer, this van has a smaller engine, and is therefore expected to be less heavy on fuel.  On the one decent trip I've done so far - up to Wallsend yesterday - that seems to be the case, but not so pleasantly economical as I'd been led to believe. 

Time alone will reveal how representative that is; I can't wait to find out!