Disaster Struck

Our life is now completely bonkers

Sunday 25^th June.

At 9:30 am we arrived in Bari Port. Our Greek tragedy finally over. We’d managed to get about five or six hours sleep while the ship cruised very smoothly across the Ionian and Adriatic seas.

But my day didn’t start well. I got stuck in a lift with a super-sized German man. We finally got out and walked to the far end to find some stairs to take us up to the main area of restaurants, toilets, etc. I then got bashed on the shoulder by a woman flinging the toilet door open on me, ouch. I returned to the stairs, but when I got to the bottom door it wouldn’t open, so I searched high and low for another staircase or lift and failed. At the information desk, I asked how I was supposed to get back to my motorhome. The woman behind the desk thrust a crew pass-card on the desktop. And when I asked her whereabouts it would work, she grumpily pointed back towards the original staircase. On my way there, a rather large Italian guy walked into me and by the time I got to the staircase, I truly didn’t believe the pass-card would work. I’m exhausted with life at the moment.

We docked around 9am and we sat still on that ship in port until 10:55 am, then finally got onto the autostrada heading north. We were feeling hopeful, positive and aiming for Termoli. But no, the day didn’t end well either. Around midday, just north of Cerignola, the dreaded dashboard warning came up again, and again, and again and again. We pulled into a motorway service station and ate some lunch and then set off again. We got as far as the end of the slip road onto the motorway and the gears started vibrating. We’ve broken down again. With arms waving, I walked Rodney in reverse back up the slip road to the car park, with cars manoeuvring around us to get onto the motorway. And then we sat for hours, in 32֯c heat, trying not to think about anything because there was no point. By 5pm we knew the RAC Breakdown service was not sending anyone on a Sunday to rescue us. The 24/7 RAC Breakdown Insurance doesn’t seem to actually be 24/7. Looks like a night in a motorway service station carpark is about as exciting as it’s going to get for us tonight.  But to finish the dreadful day, there was quite a nice sunset over the trucks in the car park…..

Monday 26^th June

We woke up still in the motorway service car park and around 10:30am, the tow truck finally turned up. The driver hooked us up and started to drag us onto the back of the tow truck. He then realised we were too large for it, so he backed us back down to the tarmac and a different system was employed. Two huge forks came out under our van, to drag us behind the tow truck. Scary. As we set off. I cracked up laughing, not because of the palaver, but because our GPS jauntily told us to drive 120 kilometres!!!  The timing was impeccable, and at least I laughed out loud for the first time since reading Bob Mortimer’s autobiography last week.

“Andiamo” he shouted and off we went, still sitting in our seats. In dolphin fashion we crawled along the motorway with hazard lights flashing and our dashboard illuminating just about every warning possible. I felt a bit seasick with the weird motion and I kept wishing Rodney would put his hands on the steering wheel. Control factor for us, still nil. But at least we were heading to a city with a Fiat dealer, hotels, hire cars and an International Airport.

But the gods are obviously furious with us, though we know not why. The Fiat garage would not accept us. Too busy. Our tow truck driver rang around and finally found somewhere else, but now Reggie wouldn’t engage any gears. Panic set in. A young man came out from the Fiat garage with an iPad and fiddled about under the dashboard until the alarm stopped. Rodney managed to reverse away from the tow truck and the tow truck driver then jumped into our driver’s seat. “Andiamo”.  I jumped into my seat and with Rodney still sat in the back trying to sort out problems with our mobile phone SIM card, the driver took us a few streets away and then jumped out. “Cinque minuti”. We sat double parked, completely bemused at what was going on and wondering if we had been dumped there. But he returned after about dieci minuti and drove us out of Foggia, around Foggia and down to the southern outskirts of Foggia with Rodney still rattling around in the back. The driver jumped out, got Rodney to sign some paperwork, hopped into a car that apparently had followed us and shouted “Ciao ciao”!!!

Three guys came out from the garage, looked at Reggie and argued, followed by a fourth man and then a fifth. After a lot of head scratching, one of them told us he would try to translate. As expected, they were too busy; “Can’t do fast. Maybe next week”. Also, they were an Iveco garage, not really Fiat. Two of them had a bit of a twiddle under the dashboard with iPad at hand and, after an hour or so of nothing, suggested, we try and drive away. Immediately the alarm came up and did it twelve times in a couple of kilometres, so we drove back to them. Our English translator was now on a late lunch. We sat and waited and then finally he confirmed that they really couldn’t help us, and we couldn’t leave the van there for repatriation, so we had to leave. We parked on the road outside, after their dog had cocked its leg and peed on one of our back wheels. I loved that.

Around 4pm RAC said they would find another garage, hah, they hadn’t found the first two, the tow truck driver did.  We waited on the roadside and at 5:00pm we angrily told the RAC we would try and drive to the hotel they had booked for us, and that if we broke down on route, we’d call them again. We made it to the hotel with only six alarms and then a warning that now won’t turn off.

Suprise, suprise, the hotel had no booking for us. We rang the RAC again. It turned out the hotel was cancelled because our case is ‘closed’. Yes, I did cry with total despair. After half an hour the reception desk received a booking in the name of Lura Hunsdon; we assumed that was me and checked in. It was a tatty place with a mouldy broken shower head and single beds and the air conditioning stuck on 30c. We hadn’t really eaten all day, and the hotel restaurant wasn’t opening until 8:00pm The hotel appears to be in the middle of nowhere, on the very outskirts of south Foggia, so there seemed no point in wandering the streets to find somewhere to eat. But I have to say, my tiny plate of ravioli at 8pm was worth waiting for.  Curiously, I was the only female customer in their restaurant, but felt quite safe because eleven of the customers were police in their uniforms with guns. This is not a normal life. I think we have slipped into some nightmare universe.

Tuesday, 27^th June.

After a horrible nightmare at 2:30 am, we both woke up early, wondering what the day would hold for us. Breakfast in the hotel was a complete debacle and there was still no contact from RAC. Rodney tried to call them, but now his phone wasn’t working, and we needed to check out of the hotel by 10am. We moved the van out onto the road under a tree for some shade and had to WhatsApp Ian back in the UK to try RAC on our behalf.  Apparently, our case was closed……..again!!! We waited. And waited. And waited.

At midday, Ian phoned to say a tow truck was coming for us, again, but the driver was currently at lunch, he would come sometime in the afternoon. But then two young men turned up, without a tow truck, and said they needed our measurements. Then they drove away for their lunch. We waited and waited in 32c while our shade was slowly disappearing. They arrived back with a tow truck at 1:45pm. At 2:30pm they dumped us by a mountain of rubbish outside our third garage and informed us the mechanics were now at lunch until 3:30pm !!!!

We wandered off to see if we could buy suitcases anywhere in the vicinity and found a tiny cafe for cold drinks, then plodded back to the garage for 3:30pm. We waited patiently until 3:55pm when a mechanic came out with a laptop and silently tinkered under the dashboard for 15 minutes…..again.  Then off we went on yet another test drive and no alarms went off.  Back at the garage he informed us that the clutch looked fine, it’s just a faulty sensor. “Arrividerci”. 

So at 4:30pm, we made the decision to get out of Foggia and get on the motorway south and aim to drive the 100kms to Termoli for a night. Fingers and toes were crossed that we wouldn’t be spending another night in a motorway service station carpark. Just as we exited the motorway near Termoli, the alarm came on again. We pulled over on a dirt track and the gears were stuck in 2^nd again. Reverse worked but we had no 3^rd, 4^th, 5^th, or 6^th. Fortunately for us it was rush hour, so we crawled through town in 2^nd gear and pulled into the carpark/aires on the Termoli marina. Most of the evening was spent on lots more phone calls between us, Neroli and Ian, RAC UK, RAC France, RAC Italy and there were more tears of frustration.  Our Australian/English sim has been blocked because all of the phone calls to RAC had looked suspicious.  We were unable to get either Sims Direct or 3 Mobile UK to unblock it.

Wednesday 28^th June

I woke up at 3:00am with a headache which turned into some sort of fit, legs flailing, arms thumping, spine hurting, and my whole-body twitching. Rodney held me tight until I fell asleep. I woke again at 7:00am with a smaller headache, but then collapsed on the toilet floor. I slept for another 30 minutes.

At 10:00am, I felt strong enough to walk into Termoli to the Vodafone office to buy an Italian SIM card. We requested one that would work throughout Europe. At 11:00 am, Rodney managed to phone the RAC for 30 minutes. At 11:35am Rodney phoned Ian for 10 minutes. At 1:45pm Rodney phoned the RAC again. At 2:00 pm the RAC phoned us; they’re going to look for yet another garage. At 2:35pm I exploded on the phone to the RAC ranting at them to stop going around in circles and leaving us stranded. Every conversation is with a different person, and they only seem to want to find garages who do and say the same thing every time, and that’s only if a tow truck company can’t find anywhere.

As is normal, they never rang back, so at 5:30pm we tried to phone the RAC, only to be told we had no credit and couldn’t make the call. It seems that our ‘unlimited calls within Europe’ has not been activated yet and we only had a limited amount to get started.  We walked back to Vodafone. The girl in the shop did something and said wait just 10 minutes. We waited 20 minutes. It was still not working. We walked back to the office and the man in the office said “Italy is very slow, maybe it will work tomorrow, it can take three days to set up”.  We walked out of the store.

At 5:56pm Ian texted us to let us know that the RAC had tried to SMS us regarding another garage they had found. Unfortunately, the garage would be closed in 3 minutes. We ate dinner. Walked back to the van and spent another night in the aires.

 Thursday 29^th June.

 Tim’s funeral happened and we couldn’t be there.

At 7:30am we drove to the rather remote garage for their 8:00am opening time. There was no one there, and it didn’t look right, but it turned out it was. We spent ages waiting for them to acknowledge us, only to discover they didn’t know we were coming; just like the previous three garages.  Finally a computer was plugged in again and off we went for another test drive. We did explain that this was the 4^th time, with the same thing being done, same result. The lovely owner, Luca tried to get the van onto their ramps so they could lift it and have a look underneath. But the van was too wide.

At 9:20am, Luca asked us to park outside and wait. We sat there all day waiting for’ something’ which might happen at 4:00pm or 5:00pm. We cooked beans on toast for lunch; the food stock is running low. At 4:30pm we checked with Luca again and he made another phone call and at 4:50pm.  With no sign of the required Fiat part, we told Luca that we would camp again and come back at 8:00 am the next day.

We crawled back to the same Aires on the marina for a 3^rd night and had a drink in the cafe bar.  At 6pm we walked back to Vodafone. The man there says it’s now all okay. We don’t believe him, but what can we do? We tried to find a nice restaurant near the castle but ended up walking back into town to share a pizza. We’re very fed up. We’re tired. I want to go home.

Friday 30th June
We were both awake at 4am, I’m not sure what was going through Rodney’s head, but I was dreaming of nightmare arguments with RAC Breakdown going round in a loop in my head. With sleep eluding us, we got up early and sat. We managed to get back to the garage for 8am; we needed Luca to explain to RAC what was going on because we still had no idea. The weekend was upon us and we knew that nothing would be done on Saturday and Sunday. We were stunned when Luca told us that the RAC had phoned him the previous evening. Using a friend of his to translate on Luca’s mobile, we learned that he had explained to RAC that the part he thought we might need was not available in Italy.

Luca could see that we were desperate, so he shook his head, plugged his computer under our dashboard, again, and we went for another test drive. Back at the garage, we discussed the problem again, using Google Translate, and off we went for yet another test drive, an even longer one. The gears didn’t get stuck, so there was nothing more he could do.

Back at the garage, Luca spoke to RAC Italy, Rodney had two more calls with RAC France while I phoned our friend Dino in Australia, wondering if we could get the van to his friend, Joseph’s home in Pontecorvo, on the other side of Italy. If we could leave it there, organise a garage ourselves and……..we knew not what, but at least we could make a plan and get back some control over our lives. But that plan quickly went out the window and we were advised by the RAC to continue driving and to just ignore the alarms and warnings. I told them I didn’t consider it a safe option and what if the gears kept failing, but we had no choice and Rodney was not willing to sit around any longer. No garage could fix it and they refused to repatriate the van. Totally frustrated by now, Rodney had to agree and at 11:30am we joined the autostrada heading north. At 12:15, after driving 55kms the alarm came on and off four times.

At 1:15pm we stopped and made tuna sandwiches. sitting in a service station car park.  At 2:10pm we eased slowly back onto the autostrada and at 2:11pm the alarm sounded just once. We kept going. At 2:40pm it did it again, just once when Rodney accelerated.  At 3:20pm we were hit by a massive downpour. Rodney switched on the hazard lights, like everyone else around us, and for 15 minutes of tough driving we prayed that we wouldn’t breakdown.

At 4:08pm and 4:25pm still on the autostrada, the alarm sounded again. Then at 4:50pm it went off three more times while driving through Rimini.  At 5pm we checked into a rather grotty aires because it was closer to the autostrada than any of the campsites in the area.   Rodney had a cup of tea to de-stress and celebrate getting so far with only ten alarms in about 370kms during the 5.5 hours’ drive. Rodney was exhausted but we desperately needed to stretch our legs, so we walked round to the old town and thoroughly enjoyed strolling through beautiful streets full of historic buildings and smiling faces. We ate pasta in the Piazza Cavour next to the Palazzo del Podesta, before returning to our bed in yet another carpark.

Saturday 1^st July

At 8:45am we drove out of the car park and immediately had five more alarms. It took 50 minutes in bad traffic to crawl to the start of the autostrada. Between 10:45am and 11:25am the alarm went off another thirteen times and at 11:25am the gears failed in a traffic jam. At 11:27am we managed to get back into the traffic, the alarm cleared and the gears worked. At 1:30pm we stopped at a service station just south of Milan, emptied our grey water and filled up with some fresh water. At 2:10pm we set off again and 50 minutes later the alarm was on again.

At 3pm we encountered a toll booth drama.  The guy in front of us put €50 in the machine and the change didn’t come out. A huge queue was developing and everyone naturally assumed it was us in a foreign vehicle causing the hold-up. People got out of cars behind us and they all tried pressing the big red button. Finally an attendant arrived and he too couldn’t get it to work.  All the drivers behind us slowly backed out, but when I jumped out to help Rodney reverse through the narrow gap, a barrier came down behind us!  We were trapped!  In the end, the attendant moved the man-with-no-change forward so that we could use a credit card to pay our toll. It worked, our alarm didn’t go off and the gears didn’t get stuck. We were on our way again.

It was 4:15pm by the time we got to Camping Conca D’Ora in Feriola . Rodney relaxed while I spent two hours trying to get our sheets and towels washed. Both of us were tired and we argued over nothing, which was stupid when we should have been happy to have got that far. The only good bit about the day was seeing fields of sunflowers in full bloom.

Lessons learned:

1.  Do not breakdown in Italy while relying on an English breakdown service with its head office in France.

2.  Do not buy a Fiat, even if expecting to break down in Italy.

3. Don’t make a lot of phone calls to one number or your mobile will be blocked.

4. Don’t buy a Vodafone SIM card in Italy.

5.  Why are all the Fiat garages so busy?  Because Fiats are unreliable and break down a lot.