Back on my Wheels
Yes, I never thought I would be so glad to back under the wheel of my 95' VW Golf station. But since thursday it has been just a real treat. Sure enought the transmission gave out on my a week ago, this hellatious sound was just screaming from the gearbox.
I knew that this sound was not up to any good and could not imagine having the damn thing break down in Reykjavík somewhere being shit out of luck. So I started working on getting a new gearbox, which is quite interesing. I say interesting because you start to deal with people who you are not used to and frankly dont know exist. Here im talking about junk yard folks... a special breed.
My main ended up being Jan, a proud polish junk yard owner in Keflavík. His icelandic not exactly up to par but i got the message through that I needed a new gearbox. I start running around the lot which contained numerous piles of cars . As im tippy toing around the lot in my flashy white nikes and expensive jeans avoiding puddles and mud.
Sure enough in one of the piles was a car like mine with a transmission, Jan the Polishman informs me that i can have it for kr.20,000 which is about $300. I said that I would take it and start thinking of my next move, how to get it into my car. As im pulling out of Jan´s junk yard, i hit the brakes and pull back in. Drop the offer to Jan, the gearbox and the switch over to my car for kr. 40,000 and that was the end of it...
In the mean time I had borrowed my mom´s old car which is in the process of being sold, a 99´Jepp Grand Cherokee, a pretty nice ride which I had adjusted to. But just the freedom of driving my own again was quite the thrill. If I crash, loose, scratch or whatever its solely my problem... love the independence....
junk yard,
róbert mar
I knew that this sound was not up to any good and could not imagine having the damn thing break down in Reykjavík somewhere being shit out of luck. So I started working on getting a new gearbox, which is quite interesing. I say interesting because you start to deal with people who you are not used to and frankly dont know exist. Here im talking about junk yard folks... a special breed.
My main ended up being Jan, a proud polish junk yard owner in Keflavík. His icelandic not exactly up to par but i got the message through that I needed a new gearbox. I start running around the lot which contained numerous piles of cars . As im tippy toing around the lot in my flashy white nikes and expensive jeans avoiding puddles and mud.
Sure enough in one of the piles was a car like mine with a transmission, Jan the Polishman informs me that i can have it for kr.20,000 which is about $300. I said that I would take it and start thinking of my next move, how to get it into my car. As im pulling out of Jan´s junk yard, i hit the brakes and pull back in. Drop the offer to Jan, the gearbox and the switch over to my car for kr. 40,000 and that was the end of it...
In the mean time I had borrowed my mom´s old car which is in the process of being sold, a 99´Jepp Grand Cherokee, a pretty nice ride which I had adjusted to. But just the freedom of driving my own again was quite the thrill. If I crash, loose, scratch or whatever its solely my problem... love the independence....
junk yard,
róbert mar
posted by robert mar at 22:31
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