Flood

"Bow wave?" I thought. CLUNK .... JERK ..... DEAD STOP. "Shit!" I loudly exclaimed as the enormity of our sudden and unexpected dilemma dramatically hit home.

The weather, it being Easter n all that, had turned very wet. We were on our way down to the coast from the hilltop village and tourist stop of 'Monchique'. All in all things were going very well. We had enjoyed bike rides, swimming and snorkelling. A real highlight had been wild camping alongside a rural track in the middle of nowhere surrounded by the wild colours, sounds and scents of a flowering Portuguese spring. Such delights had been ours this last couple of sun blessed weeks. But now, Easter Sunday, the rain was tumultuous so we were happily and slowly wending our way to lower and drier levels.

There was a flood under a bridge which at first glance did not look too bad and certainly no worse than Sadie and I had forded through before. 

"Slowly does it" I thought as Sadie crept along. 

We were halfway through when I noticed we were making a bow wave in front of us. Now, the noticing of a bow wave being pushed up in front of a vehicle designed to travel on dry land is good and sort of OK. Unfortunately; 'the noticing' is a sluggish psychological process which is usually some way behind the action taking place in front of your eyes. This of course is not good, not good at all! Sadies big five cylinder diesel engine relies totally on receiving large quantities of dry clean air. Her air intake was now below the bow wave and had efficiently sucked into her engine a healthy slug of water. This had immediately stopped her dead. Simultaneously my brain, which contains years of knowledge and useless information about engines, registered with alarm the catastrophic consequences of said slug of water entering such a precision reliant mechanism as Sadie's large hot five cylinder turbocharged diesel engine

I turned to Barbara and said gloomily. "That's the engine well and truly f****d then!"

I kicked off my footwear and stepped outside to assess the situation. The water was knee deep and lapping at Sadie's entry step. I noticed a youngish tall guy beckoning me over while at the same time speaking into his mobile phone. As I paddled out of the water toward him he said in good English. 

"You got rope? My friend coming back, he pull you out." 

Sure enough edging toward the water a few minutes later was his friends Jeep complete with wife and young child sitting bemused inside. The ropes were soon attached and Sadie emerged from the flood onto the dry road.

That, however, was not the end. Listen to the rest of this story and then tell me who is one very very lucky old codger!

Turns out these two guys were lorry mechanics and really knew their stuff. In seconds Sadies bonnett was up, air hoses were being disconnected and a soggy wet air filter was pronounced as 'No good, need buy new.'  I was then instructed to sit in the drivers seat and occasionally give the engine a flick with the starter motor. They meanwhile rocked Sadie back and forth with her in 5th gear. 

"You must put in 5th gear!" They shouted in unison" 

Sadie's engine was finally cleared of water and able to turn over easily and start. And miracle of miracles she did start. She burst back into life and I just about burst into tears. I could not believe our good fortune. Easter Sunday, a foreign country, a flooded bridge out in the countryside and two Guardian Angel lorry mechanics there on site to assist the crazy tourist who drives a motorhome like he thinks he's got a Sunseeker luxury powerboat!!

I was instructed to drive slowly to our destination, about ten kilometers, and then go to the Mercedes Benz main dealer the next day to finish the job properly. I thrust a generous Euro note into each of their protesting hands before limping slowly away in Sadie with her compromised non turbo charged engine. The air hoses, and turbocharger had been left unconnected to drain out and dry.

I was shattered both mentally and physically when we reached 'Alvor', our stop for the night. To be then cared for and have dinner cooked for me by Barbara was very very special. Especially after she had been suddenly and dramatically told her shared holiday home was, in effect, f****d by her host, a thunderously doom and gloom bearded ancient idiot motorhome driver. An experience that was deeply traumatising for her as well. Thank you Barbara.

We were at the Mercedes Benz dealer early next day. They were excellent and remarkably good value too. Yup! The miracles just kept coming!  I mean .... Mercedes main dealer? Good value? Hah! in the UK you'd need to take out a mortgage if you so much as coughed in one of those places! But here in Portugal we left 2 hours later with a fully functional, fully checked, electronically diagnosed, and all thumbs up raring to go Sadie.

Another day and another story but more to the point. Another example of ..... There is summmat, out there, lookin after me. All I can do is say ..... Thank you soooooo much.

Barbara and I had a bet as to what the garage bill would be. We were happily both way out with our guesses. Even so Barbara was the loser being off the mark even more than me. She was quite happy to stick to the agreement and duly paid for the celebratory meal.

Sadly Barbara is now safely back, courtesy of Ryanair, to her country cottage near 'St Andrews' in Scotland. I can truly say we had a wonderful three weeks and both Tanya and I are tonight missing her a lot. Sadie seems somehow empty.