We always seem to spend our August bank holiday in Clacton which just happens to be Frankie’s birthday. I normally book him in for his mot at some point during the holiday and this year was no exception. Problem was that the normal place has been repossessed, so one of my buddies, Steve Float, suggested that I take it to the new mot centre over the road from the old one.
I phoned and booked an appointment for Friday afternoon forgetting that, 1 – we had our granddaughter with us, 2 – it was the Clacton airshow,3 – Friday was the designated “go to the beer festival day” and 4 – I should have booked it for Wednesday which was when our site opened.
I left Frankie at the mot centre and wandered off to visit the Clacton shopping village. That took 5 minutes!
After half an hour there is a phone call, “Frankie is too fat, we can’t lift him”. Luckily they told me about another testing station and they managed to fit us in Tuesday morning.
He passed, by the skin of his tyres, had an advisory 3mm left, which was just as well because the ferry is tomorrow.
Look at the size of that arse! We are parked in the aire in Canterbury, obviously visiting the local wetherspoons because it is national steak chewing night. I’ll have a few pints of hobgoblin gold and then mosey on down to the port in the morning.