“Sometimes my brother does good work”

Someone called across from the other line as we were queuing to go through ‘passports’ on arrival at Santander. “Those blue and yellow ribbons are really effective up on your roof”. I had to think for a moment. What was she referring to? Then I realised she could see the ratchet straps holding the waste tank onto the rack. That reminded us that the war in Ukraine goes on and that all is not well in the world, even as we begin another trip.

  

Santander is one of those places where instead of driving through, one should stay and enjoy the place. It looks especially nice in the sun but we had a plan, of sorts and drove on!

We arrived at a village previously discovered by the Head of Stopovers and drove to their new aire by the river. Here you can gain access through the barrier and connect to the electricity supply, as long as you can understand the plentiful instructions on the informacion board. The English ones didn’t present much of a problem and so we paid €7 to be able to open a little compartment to obtain a pass in a box, for the barrier.

All we then had to do, was try to ignore the driving advice from two English motorhomers who warned again and again about the 10% hill we would encounter if we decided to drive the (main) road south. They had descended this hill and their brakes had got very hot. One of them had apparently chucked a load of water on his hubs to cool them down. I tried to discuss engine braking but didn’t get far.

We have decided to use real electricity on this trip as more and more places bundle a hook-up in the fee. So for the first time in several years we brought a cable and the necessary adapter from Euro two pin to the big macho 16A UK blue plug. We also needed a kettle which the Head Quartermaster had added to the stores list. Anyway as we are being ‘fleeced’ in the UK over 907 Camping Gaz prices, it seemed like the good idea was being confirmed.

The new leak was located, although this smelly, recent one was diesel, there was still the original one from the power steering. Anyone would think that I don’t maintain this Landy.

Under the bonnet diesel had sprayed everywhere. It was dripping down to the steering and off onto the tarmac which is #neveragoodthing. The main leak off pipe had decided to split at one end so I was able to cut it back and push it onto to #1 injector. I then had to cleanup and the Head Assistant was able to hold a rubbish bag, as many diesel covered rags were generated.

The immediate scene here is pastoral but from the 1950s. We watched as a farmer with a 21C tractor repeatedly filled a small slurry spreader and then took it to a nearby field whereupon it was emptied in a flash.

His daughter was there to open an electric fence for each journey and this happened all late afternoon and early evening before he then got the cows in for milking.

The ‘parlour’ is an old fashioned low ceiling ‘barn’ with the cows in stalls and the clusters moved by hand to each. So he is walking behind them which is never a good thing. The flies were horrible and he was still doing at dusk, which is already 9:30pm here ( CET and longitude combined - latitude isn’t really relevant still as it only April

The next morning we drove into the village and dropped power steering oil (ATF) all around. It was time to do something. First though I swapped an empty 907 for a full one and was charged a little under €20. That’s better and was also in ‘The Plan’.

After some Googling and searching on the Main Street, we located el mechanico and after some explanation using Google translate, a guy was quickly under the very drippy power steering pipe.

After getting a very oily arm and even more oily floor and two attempts to find a suitable seal, everyone stood back as I exercised the steering which finally didn’t leak.

One guy who has been watching the job then said in his best English, “ sometimes my brother does good work”

What a great place and so accommodating they were too. We had literally stopped outside and asked for help. Ahora? Si