Category: Cars

Last Saturday, my friends and I decided to test our speed limits on the local race track. As adrenaline junkies, we always keep our cars in prime condition, ready to hit the road or track at any time. The day was going well, with the wind in our hair and the roar of the engines filling our ears. That was until my car decided it was time for an unscheduled pit stop.

There I was, in the middle of a race, when my trusty sports car started making a clunking noise. I immediately pulled over, hoping it was a minor issue I could fix. A quick look under the hood confirmed my worst fear: I was not equipped to handle it. The panic began to set in. As someone who takes immense pride in their car, the thought of it being incapacitated, even temporarily, was distressing.

Desperate and without much of a choice, I started searching for a reliable mechanic based near Bentleigh. To my relief, I found one with stellar reviews. As my car was towed to the shop, I hoped for the best. The staff were amicable, and their professional demeanour quickly put my racing heart at ease. They informed me that they provide a comprehensive car service in the Bentleigh area and have experience with racing cars like mine.

While I waited for the repair, I decided to engage with other customers. It was enlightening to hear their stories and experiences with this mechanic. Many had been loyal customers for years, and others had similar sudden needs like mine. But the unanimous consensus was clear: the service quality and trustworthiness were top-notch.

By late afternoon, my car was back to its roaring best. Not only had they fixed the immediate issue, but they also did a full check-up ensuring I wouldn’t face another hiccup soon. Driving away from the workshop, I couldn’t help but think about how unexpected events sometimes lead to discovering hidden gems. And in this case, I found a mechanic team I knew I could trust for years to come.

There’s really nothing so pleasant as a seaside cruise in one’s automobile. Don’t you agree? It’s positively thrilling, especially when one is riding high in the elevated carriage of a 4WD, speeding along the edge of a cliff. One false move and you could plummet to your doom… oh, the excitement!

Of course, I would never truly ‘speed’, as far as the law is concerned. Yet, I’m hurtling along at a pace that seems frankly obscene. That, I feel, is only natural, given that automobiles have not yet come to be in my time . I can get up a cracking momentum on horseback, mind you, but one is so limited by the imperative to conduct oneself like a lady.

Thanks to the wonders of time travel, though, I’ve recently been made privy to the parallel existence of other times, where this imperative is very nearly non-existent. That, combined with the fabulous powers of the automobile, allows me to move at speeds undreamed of. While I’m here, I’m learning all I can about brake and clutch technology, in the hopes of eventually bringing it back to my home time.

It all started when Mary told me of a rumour that time travellers had taken up residence in sleepy Milperra, bringing with them all sorts of provisions from the future. I quickly discovered that there was a resident diesel mechanic near me, who had come to maintain the time travel device. After a bit of convincing, he agreed to let me accompany him on a trip to the future, provided I kept a low profile.

And so, here I am in 2020, driving an automobile! Who’d ever have thought it? In my time, automobiles were coming to be spoken of, but they seemed like the stuff of some far-off future. Indeed, the cars of 2020 are a far cry from those spoken of in my time – why, they are positively luxurious. If I didn’t know better I’d be forced to conclude that they are chariots of the gods.

You’ve been driving for about eight hours and all you want is a classic pub dinner, but you’re in the middle of an endless stretch of unfamiliar rural territory with no such oasis in sight. You know there must be a tavern around here somewhere, but a cursory glance at the locals you spotted in the servo a few kilometres back tells you’d be better off not asking for directions.

You’ll find it yourself, do what you’ve got to do while drawing minimal attention to your person, and be on your way to the next available motor inn. At least, that’s the plan, but now you’re car’s grinding to a halt right there on the road. Aaaand… it’s gone. It’s usually so reliable, this zippy little car, but then you picked it for city driving, not for marathons on patchy country highways.

Now you’ve got to decide whether you’ll flag down one of the few passing cars, hoping they’ll be a fellow city slick who’ll understand your predicament, rather than a local in a powerful 4WD with a modified engine. Of course, the latter is much more likely to be able to help, and maybe even give you a list of mechanics close to Toowoomba. But they’re also more likely to remind you about your inadequacies in handling your business outside of the city.

Your other option is to call for roadside assistance, which is liable to take several hours to arrive. In your tired and hungry (verging on hangry) state, this hardly seems worth entertaining, but at least it would enable you to keep your pride somewhat intact. As in, you won’t have to pretend you know what ‘ECU remapping’ means while a tanned guy in an oilskin hat scoffs at how little height there is to your car’s undercarriage and makes fun of the tiny little boot.

Ultimately, this is probably just your own anxious self-condemnation talking, and you really want that pub meal – like, yesterday. You summon all your worldly grit, flick on your hazard lights and get out of the car, ready to take charge of the situation.

Sometime I wish I could be invisible. Now, sometimes in this house I DO feel invisible, but that’s not what I mean. It’s just that Mother and Father, despite their good intentions, are rather protective and want me to do certain things at certain times, and I simply cannot wait until I am grown and can make my own decisions. I’m allowed to explore the grounds, but as large as they are, I have traversed them all, and I find the prospect of being observed by security cameras dull and limiting.

Oh, just imagine the trouble I could get up to if I were invisible! I have a school chum who got in on a scholarship, and she tells all the most wonderful stories. For example, her father recently took the car into their local Ringwood mechanic for brake repair and replacement. I know OF Ringwood, but it’s not the type of place Mother and Father would allow me to visit. And even if we did go there for a ball, or a gala, or a grand opening, they wouldn’t let me near places that do car servicing. Imagine if I were invisible, so I could sneak out and find a mechanic, then go into the workshop and see exactly what they do to get by. And also, I would be a fly-on-the-wall for what mechanics talk about while they work! I have very little idea what that might be, but research has led me to indicate that it might be about parking spaces, water coolers and who ate the sandwich in the fridge that did not belong to them. That seems to be what a lot of people have talked about on the very rare occasions I’ve been into work with Father. Surely if there are car mechanics available in Ringwood, they talk about more or less the same types of things? I wouldn’t know. I will possibly never know. Father always flies in his personal mechanics from the Netherlands to service our cars, so we don’t even have the ‘mechanic-visiting’ experience.

-Madeira