Since a fairly early start was required, we were up at 7.15. Breakfast was at 8.15, after which we packed the car, finding space in the Skoda's not overly large boot for our luggage but not leaving much room for Richard's, to be collected later.
We left at 9.05, and started on our way to Northampton, via the A331, M3 and M25. Progress was relatively uneventful until we approached the junction between the M1 and M25, apart from a few minutes spent stationary in traffic on the London Orbital Carpark. Just as we were about to turn off, we spotted warnings of an accident causing problems northbound on the M1, and Pauline rapidly decided upon an alternative route around St Albans and onto the A1(M). We started upon this diversion, but unfortunately missed the intended B road and soon found ourselves sitting in lengthy traffic queues on the A402 outside St Albans.
Much time was spent sitting there, cursing ourselves for missing the B road, but we finally found ourselves almost at a roundabout after which the problems appeared to be subsiding. To our horror we then spotted steam emerging from under the bonnet. Immediately I shut off the engine and switched on hazard lights, but our nearest refuge was on the hard shoulder at the start of the M10, a left turn at the roundabout, while we were in the right-hand lane. Switching on the engine only when necessary, I managed to change lanes and take refuge on the hard shoulder, seemingly just as the M10 was re-opening, possibly it had been closed owing to the problems on the M1.
A lengthy wait then followed while we waited for the engine to cool down. It seemed that the radiator had overheated, with steam emerging and some condensing on parts of the engine and dripping onto the ground. The water level had dropped almost to zero, so we were evidently in need of a refill as soon as possible.
Eventually we decided it was reasonable to move off again, and we made our way to the Toddington Services, from which we phoned Richard to tell him that we would be rather late arriving, and also took the opportunity to refill the radiator with water. There appeared to be no further temperature problems, so we continued up the M1 to Northampton and Richard's house in Weston Favell. We were a little unsure as to which house it was, as we'd been told to expect a grey house and both Pauline and I considered it to be most definitely white, much to the annoyance of Richard and his mother. Maybe they think a white house sounds too presidential.
A much appreciated lunch was served, after which I phoned home to ask for advice regarding the car. The suspicion was that a combination of the time spent sitting in traffic jams, the fact that it was a moderately hot day and a problem with the radiator cooling fan had caused the problems. No problems with fuses were evident this time. I proceeded to run the engine for some time to see whether the radiator cooling fan would cut in, which it didn't, but we continued nonetheless, keeping a careful eye on the engine temperature for the remainder of the trip. My father later decided that he was not sure that he had ever noticed the radiator fan switch on and that perhaps it had never worked in all the time we'd had the car --- some six years.
We were eventually on our way again, hoping to make good progress, especially given that we still had of order five hours' driving ahead of us, assuming that we encountered no further problems. Alas, this was not the case. A few miles along the M1, just as I was getting into counting the passing Eddie Stobart lorries on the other carriageway, we started to hear a rather disconcerting noise. After a few moments, we decided ``yes, that is coming from our car'' and pulled onto the hard shoulder to investigate.
The problem was immediately evident: a completely flat offside rear tyre. The boot was emptied onto the grass verge, spare wheel, jack and tool extracted from the bottom of the boot, the car moved in as far from the carriageway as possible and the warning triangle put out, then the process of changing the wheel began.
Fortunately Richard proved excellent at changing wheels, and after a little initial debate as to the location of the jacking points, we soon had the wheel changed and were able to move on again. We stopped at the next services (Watford Gap) to check all was well and to report the problem back to Farnham, then continued on our way north. We hoped that the rule of three was in action here and that there would be no further problems. Whether this would actually be so remained to be seen.
Fortunately the remainder of our journey to Carlisle proved to be remarkably uneventful. Our route avoided the notorious Birmingham Box, and took us up the M1 until we turned onto the A50 near Leicester, across to the M6 near Stoke-on-Trent, then continued up the M6 to more or less its end at Carlisle.
We arrived at our destination, the Cornerways Guesthouse, at 7.45pm, somewhat wearied by the day's events and in need of some sustenance. Pauline had the unenviable task of having to park the car up on the raised paved platform outside the place. I'd stayed there a few months previously and having seen how awkward the ramp could be, especially if someone else had parked right in the space in which one wanted to turn.
Unfortunately a quick wander around the centre of Carlisle revealed little in the way of eating establishments, and our dinner consisted of some highly unremarkable fare from the local chippie followed back in the room by some fruit pies kindly supplied by my mother. Other than my phoning home again to assure that all was well, we did little, and went to bed around 10.30pm.