Oct. 7, 2005 - An Irish E34 525i
I picked up a 1990 525i in Ireland for a song. The market for used cars with big engines was quite limited due to the fact that younger drivers generally could not afford to insure them or they would be refused cover at any price. As a result, I paid less for the 525i than I would have had to for a crappy little banger of the same vintage.
Cars over 2 litres were generally looked upon as company directors' cars and the typical insurance clerk would not have much experience with insuring them. I went in to my local insurance broker to insure the car and the girl was aghast when I told her the size of the engine. She actually got on the phone to someone to ask what she should do, once she got over her initial shock. It seems there weren't any cars in town over 1.6 litres with the exception of her boss's Mercedes C200.
Well, all sorts of phone calls were made and I finally got the car insured.
Next step was to get some decent tyres and dampers fitted. In Ireland with their somewhat third world roads, tyres are frequently popped in potholes, and dampers are worn out quite quickly. The typical Irish car ends up with two, three or even four different brands of tyres on it. This one, despite having spent some time in the UK, where cars lead a far more pampered life, had the maximum, and even the spare didn't match.
Off to the local garage to order some new tyres and dampers. I insisted on Bilstein or Koni and asked for either Pirelli or Michelin of some decent specification as I was planning on spending a fair bit of time on the continent. They kept isisting that their off brand was every bit as good, and "sure won't those expensive tyres pop just like the cheap ones". I don't rememb the size off hand, but the tyres ended up being Pirellis and they ahd to be special ordered from the UK! When I stopped in to see how things were progressing they showed me these wonderful Japanese dampers they wanted to fit. I put my foot down and again insisted that I had told them what kind I wanted. They explained that they were trying to save me money. I expalined to them that I was the customer, and I was tyring desperately to make them money. That seemed to shock them to their senses. Of course they would have spent their entire lives dealing with farmers looking for the absolutely cheapest fix.
Once the car was fully sorted and brought back to UK standard wouldn't you know we found ourselves moving to the continent. We packed up and took the Ferry from Rosslare to France, and then drove to Luxembourg, our new home. Cruising for hours on end at speeds in excess of 100MPH I was gald that I had insisted on the premium tyres and dampers. Once settled in, I quickly relaised that living with a RHD car was not going to be all that much fun. Parking garages and tolls were fine if there was a co-driver in the left hand seat, but otherwise a hike around the car was called for.
This could be amusing at times, one in particular when the bird jumped out fo the car at the creche to pick up the kids. A number of the EC big shots' wives used to just hop out and leave their car in the queue causing all sorts of problems. Luckily the security guards had clamped down on this quite harshly.
As the bird got out of the car and started off toward the building one of them alertly intercepted her and started chewing her out for leaving her car in the queue. I was enjoying the spectacle as she was tyring to explain that it was right hand drive. As right had a couple meanings in English, "droit" has the same meaning in French and and apparently the guard thought she was teling him that she a right to leave the car there. Naturally this annoyed him further and he was getting rather agitated about the situation.
The traffic in the carpark started moving at this point and I drove off to find a parking slot. Suddenly realising his mistake, the guard was quite apologetic, and from then on would greet either of us with "Ah, the car that drives itself!"
Next up has to be the St. Moritz adventure. I got a call to assist the Irish Bobsleigh team at the World Championships and set off for St. Moritz. I hadn't bothered purchasing winter tyres as there had been vry little snow in Europe and I was planning on sending the car back to Ireland as living with RHD on the continent was proving tedious. There was absolutely no snow to be seen from Luxembourg to Zurich and beyond and progress was brisk, or at least as brisk as a 525i an make it.
As I approache the Julier Pass , (elevation 2284m) snow began to appear on the tops of the mountains. Soon enough the snow was right to the edge of the road, but no worries as the tarmac was dry. Entering the pass proper, the snobanks were about 2 to 3 metres high at the vrey edge of the road, but still the surface was dry. Traffic was light and I was making great progress, worried only by the fact that the petrol gauge was well into the red without a station in sight.
I soon found a new worry as the wind picke up and snow was starting to drift across the road. In spots and soone the entire surface was covered in white. I was able to keep up momentum just the same and thought that I'd make it over the top. No such luck as the gradient got steeper and the switchbacks tigher and closer togethe there was no way to keep up the forward motion. Further complicating matters was traffic, with some really slow lorries heading uphill and a steady stream heading down as well on what was rapidly becoming a very narrow stretch with very limited sightlines.
I made one attempt to spin the car around and head back down, but was thwarted by a lorrie that appeared from around the next bent, and was now sitting motionless with no chance of restarting my ascent. Time for a quick J-turn once a break appeared in the traffic. Easier said than done with ABS, but accomplished nevertheless. Back downhill to find chains and petrol.
It was well after closing on a Friday, but I found a tiny Toyota dealership in an equally tiny village and enquired about chains. As Irish luck would have it, sure enough they had one set of chains on the shelf, an they were the correct size for the car. I tried to give the fellow the money and get back on the road, but he was ahving none of that. The Swiss are very methodical and thorough people, and nowhere on the label was a 525i listed. Sure theere was every other 5er, but not mine. He had to make a couple phone calls, much like my insurance broker in Ireland to figure out how to cope with the problem at hand.
After getting some sort of positive reply, or at least a maybe, from the other end, he decided that the only way to tell for sure would be to fit the chains on the car and check the clearances. Wonderful, except that we would also have to remove them again as we were well away form the snowy bit of road. With the chains safely stowed I headed further downhill to find petrol. Aure enough, after a few villages I came across one with a vending machine type of pump. I had used most of my Swiss Francs for the Autobahn vignette and of course the chains and now had but 10 to my name. I fed the note into the machine but it took no notice. The garage looked deserted, but again luck played a role and it turned out theat the lads were hanging about having some sort of Friday evening libation. One of them came out to the pump with me, opened it up and found my note jammed in the machinery. He fed it through again and I was tanked up and on my way.
There was a ski area just before the snowy bit of road with a bit of a car park where I had planned to mount the chains. I pulled in and started about my business when an old Toyota Land Cruiser appeared and a kindly old gentleman appeard with a floor jack and started helping. I was rather impressed with his kindness! When we finished I was trying to think of some way to reward this Good Samaritan, remembering that the last of my Swiss Francs had disappeared into the petrol pump. As I reach for my wallet he immediately informed me that I owed him 40 Swiss Francs. Clearly a rip-off artist, and not the kindly gentleman I took him for initially! The chains themselves had cost only about 24 Swiss Francs! I explained that I had no Swiss Francs on my person and he said Deutschmarks would do. I had none of them at all but had a good supply of Luxembourgisch and Belgian Francs which would have to do.
Luckily he hadn't a clue as to the exchange rate and when I gave him a BEF/LUF100 note he wanted to give me some change. I couldn't possibly screw him that badly as I would have meant he was paying me to help mount my chains, but is was sorely tempted. I'm sure he got a shock when he presented my note at the bank!
The trip throught he pass and sown into St Moritz was a dawdle with my new-found traction, and I must say the pale is a winter wonderland. Sort of Monte Carlo in the Alps with Porsche 996 turbos jammed into snowbanks next to Rolls Royces and Bentleys as well as half of the worlds' supply of RS2s, RS4s (the "in" alpine car at the time), and all the premium SUVs.
I parked the car at our hotel and didn't touch it for almos a week. It there was quite a cold snap and it suddenly dawned on me that although I had added some anti-freeze, I had never actually checked what level of protection I had. Oops, too late now! When it came time for the drive home, I cleared the accumulated snow off the car and opened the bonnet. I checked the coolant and sure enough there was ice in it, but not really solid ice. I got behind the wheel, pushed in the clutch, which incidentally returned very slowly due to the cold, held my breath and turned the key. Phew!
On the return, I made sure to remove the chains before I got to the carpark of the "Good Samaritan".
Living with a RHD car on the continent was getting to be a pain in the arse, especially in Luxembourg with the parking garages. The walk around the car to get the ticket was a bother, and the humourless Luxembourgisch drivers didn't enjoy being held up for the extra few seconds. We gave the car to a brother in law and it made the trip back to Ireland heavily laden with wines.
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