After 15 months of driving the Beast, I had my first puncture today – a nail through the back tyre. This in itself is quite surprising, considering the state of the roads and paths I drive on every day, some of which are thrown together from building rubble and, therefore, full of rusty old nails. So, I tracked down the closest tyre repair workshop – a side-of-the-road place called, um ... now that I think of it, I don't think it had a name. And for 4000Ar ($2.50 / €1.80 / R17) I was up and running in no time.
Despite what the place looked like, the repair guys were amazingly friendly, chatty and efficient. They were amused at how old the old girl was and amazed that she was still running with so many kilometers on the clock. I'm just thankful for the decrepit old dear, without whom which life in Madagascar would be all the more difficult ...
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| In good hands ... |
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| On my way home ... This pic is especially for Kim, who appreciates my sloping horizons. |
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| She desperately needs a new side panel, and is haemorrhaging oil, but she sure does have character! |
Don't know if it's the background, or the TLC at such a cost, but the old girl is looking quite nice today.A-L
ReplyDeleteBikes scare me. My dad rode all over Central America and Mexico on one with only one broken leg...when he ran into a pack of dogs. Still there's just nothing between you and the pavement...or rubble. You be careful! :)
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