We used to stop overnight in Calais when travelling to and from the UK, One Easter, I dropped my wife off at the TGV station (she was going to CdG for a Joburg flight) and then headed south. About 9pm that evening as I came off the A20 at Jct 56, I checked my phone and found a message from my wife telling me the hotel had contacted her after finding a laptop in our room.
First thought you can guess ! Second thought, ‘At least it’s safe.’ Third was the realisation that I had over forty Open University essays to mark and return over the next couple of weeks…
After a couple of days frantically phoning around managed to borrow an ancient Windows 7 Dutch laptop, and after another day figuring it out , downloaded the essays and we had a happy ending.
I’ve had a few senior moments but the one I dread is the one that hasn’t happened yet, and that is filling the car with petrol instead of diesel. Always worries me when filling up.
My ‘best’ was on a trip to London. At Gare de Lyon I took the RER, but left my larger bag on the platform there. Luckily realised at Châtelet! I immediately got off the train I was on and headed back to Gare de Lyon to find my bag surrounded by guards who were just about to close the station and call for security to remove it. They were very cross with me.
Did that with my Packard 8 years ago, the petrol engine had been replaced with a large diesel by the previous owner and, as my friend and I left for a trip to Spain, I topped it up with petrol before realising my mistake. Had to stop every 20 miles from Nottingham to Dover squeezing in a bit more diesel each time.
I did that ! I drove about 200m and found a parking space, fortunately, but the engine gave up at that point. I then had to wait for to the rescue truck to come and sort it out.
What strikes me is that all of these stories - bar the one @Peter_Bird told to kick it off - are things which happened to people of at most middle age, which may support my theory (based on spending a lot of time with older people) that we don’t necessarily get more forgetful as we get older, it’s just that we assume we do and the fear of it creates stress and makes us more likely to be forgetful. The truth is, we’ve always forgotten things on occasion (usually when distracted), even when much younger.
Yes it did, the main difference between the 2 is apparently the lubricating content of the the oil in diesel so the main danger was damage to the engine without it. It made no difference to the running of the engine, and despite the Packard having a very large tank (built to assume about 8 mpg of petrol) as long as I kept topping up with diesel no harm was done.
I did not get the chance to see if there was any long term damage as it broke down for a completely different reason (seized diff) in France and, after it was recovered, I sold it.
@Porridge mine was not age related, unless I was very precocious, as I was about 22 years old at the time of the above episode.
There’s a pump Lidl does that goes on a drill I had my eye on in case of needing an emergency fuel unload from tank for that reason. Standard half-inch hose connection. Currently 2,99 euros.
It would run off a small battery drill if a charged one was kept in the boot. I had bought it for a water tank at 5,99 a while back. It sells well and when it’s gone it’s been a while before it comes back but it’s back now.
I wouldn’t expect to use it again for water after using it to suck out the tank after a misfuel but it struck me for a diesel vehicle could be good stuff to have in the boot and a lot less expensive than a tank change service such ss a petrol station would call for you.
Many years ago when I was driving my lorry to Italy and had Fran as my co-driver, we stopped at a service station south of Paris to top up the tank. All drivers had a debit card called DKV (German I think) which was accepted all over Europe.
But there wasn’t a DKV sign so I sent my darling to the office to ask the man if he accepted them. I carefully instructed her on the words to use and emphasised that on no account should she say Dee Kay Vee, because he wouldn’t understand. She looked doubtfull when I coached here to say Day Kar Vay.
OK she said a few moments later and I proceded to fill up. In the office the man refused the card, he didn’t take DKV and I was not best pleased when she assured me that he had said yes and demonstrated proudly how she had said Dee Kay Vee.
It took a very long time and a very bad taste in the mouth to suck out 40 odd gallons of diesel into a series of buckets.
The atmosphere in the cab that evening was distinctly frosty.
Done that. New van. Never had a diesel vehicle before. Realised after XX litres. What I did to get round the problem is not fit for ‘family viewing’. Let’s just say that a vast explosion at the Hogarth Roundabout [A4 > M4] London, taking out Fuller’s ‘Fox and Hounds’ and the brewery attached did not happen. Now while I was there, anyway.
I am very bad with wallet and keys, either together or individually, so much so that a friend, typically New York Jewish [she describes herself as a hysterical neurotic] , reckons that I need what she calls ‘help’ ie to take analysis/therapy.
I could give dozens of examples. The latest was at Intermarche this week.. Getting the plastic token to release a trolley was a struggle. I put my bags, keys and all on the trolley one ahead.
Having got my trolley going, off I went. Having gone thru’ the checkout I realised I didn’t have my keys. I checked the car - never locked - no keys. I then worked out what I’d done. Acceuil didn’t have them. If they had indeed been on the trolley ahead of mine in the rack, someone would come across them …
Some minutes later a staffer emerged from a checkout with my keys at full jingle/dangle.
On a P&O brochure shoot on the W.Indies cruise I dropped my passport on the back seat of a taxi in Curaçao. The taxi came back to the ship minutes before it was cast off time …
I thought I’d lost my keys on a Brit Ferries > Ouistrehem. I went round in ever decreasing circles, including the info desk. I was in a right 2/8
I eventually came across them in my ‘rucksac’ in a tiny zippered pocket I had never used before.
Hubby and I took two cars and did a 1 way 9km walk down the Gorges du Cere, walking into the gorge and downriver. We got to about with 2km of the car at the end point when hubby realised he had left the keys in a safe spot in the car at the start point. I was not a happy bunny! The walk back was uphill and fairly steep. 16km later, we arrived at the start point rather footsore.
MacBook Air + communal recycling bin that was virtually empty; rescued with a grabber, a hoe, a garden rake and the help of a passing neighbour. Dropped it four times from about four feet up onto the metal bottom of the bin. Scraped multiple times with a rake. The only evidence? A tiny dent on the side of the case and a tiny scratch on the lid. Oh … and about 180/100 blood pressure!
And there was me always putting it in a soft case to transport just in case it got scratched. A true testament to Apple engineering and quality.
Back in the day that used to be our local where me, my (then) husband and our friends used to enjoy a pint or several of Fullers ESB. Us girls drank Fullers Pride which wasn’t so strong!
