Bonjourno!
Ohh how I wish I was going anywhere where the language is anything but English. I. Need. A. Holiday!!! But following the debacle from last week and the costly bill that Clifford, my Fiat 500L, gave me I am certainly not going anywhere sunny or exotic, I think even Newquay would be a stretch. Nevertheless, I have thrown myself into full-blown Christmas Smish-mas mode and that includes visiting the big man.
Back in September, I was scrolling through my daily emails when I came across one from a local garden centre, quite well known in the area. Not really reading it properly I thought it was regarding my wedding flowers and some ideas or thoughts regarding styling since I had asked them for a quotation. However, this was not the case and on opening it up I discovered the wonders of what the garden centre could offer at this time of year.
Reading through the email, it explained how Frosts Garden Centre were opening their grotto exclusively for dog lovers! "You and your four-legged friend can enjoy the ultimate Santa experience" I continued reading, enthralled by it all. With a choice of six sessions available the visit was to be jam-packed with photo opportunities and includes mixing your own doggie treats and of course meeting Santa! As if that wasn't enough, each owner also receives a mince pie as well as a special treat for our canine friends too!
Wasting no time like an excited parent I booked the visit and text Mr Warehouse to let him know the good news. Anticipation built and as the day got closer I talked openly with my work colleagues what I would be doing on my morning away from the office. They were surprised and whilst most giggled and laughed, a lot of them would (and have) asked where they can get tickets.
Arriving on the day, all of us in dressed in Christmas jumpers, we finally found the Grotto after much hunting around the flowers and granny scarves on sale. It honestly looked like a shed, but with our elf waiting outside for us, we skipped up to the front gates and were taken inside the magical winter wonderland created.
Frankenstein was less than impressed by the penguin animatronics, standing to attention and refusing to let the penguins get me, guarding his Dog Mom from the strangely suited birds. I think I even heard a growl and a yap from his nervous stance. The older one, however, was quietly amused by it all, wagging all the way and probably wondering why we have to come to such a place. But our Pooch loved Christmas and always gets a bit nervy and upset when the decorations come down in January.
Snapping away some blurred pictures of our nine-month-old pup we skipped through the frozen landscape and into the Elves workshop. Here we got to pick and choose a doggy bag quite literally, selecting some treats and biscuits for our little fur babies. Safely squirrelled away we were guided by our Elf through to Santa's sitting room, a full log burning fire awaiting us to warm our toes and even a mince pie for Dog Mom over here (Diet going right out the window)! Standing by the huge Christmas Tree, perfectly lit in lights and beautiful decorations we had some family pictures, smiling for the camera.
Just as we were about to finish the big man himself arrived. Welcoming himself to us and our pups, he was short for a Santa, however, the awe we were in was palpable. Never had I ever thought I would be this excited to see Father Christmas, and yet here I was, my baby pup and big pup, both ready to have their picture taken for our family Christmas Cards. Posing was difficult enough though and trying to get us all to smile at the camera and not wink or blink or sneeze or turn away was a chore in itself, and that was us human's. Holding Frankenstein in my arms I was certain that was a memory to cherish forever and ever, and, after receiving a gift from Mr Claus himself, Mr Warehouse and I continued our walk through the Reindeer forest and into the gift shop to look at our photos. Choosing one, we purchased a copy and looked forward to sending out the memories with family.
Would we do it again? Probably not, unless we knew it was maybe oldies last Christmas, but even then I think I would want to try somewhere else. At £9.99 for one owner and dog (plus £1.99 per additional owner and £6.99 per additional dog), it wasn't cheap, combining with the £7.50 per photo not to mention multiple other gift options available and it could turn into an expensive morning out. However, I cannot fault the staff and how special they made it for our first Christmas as a paw-some foursome, although I would say that Frosts Garden Centre could make it a little easier to find Santa's Grotto as it was rather difficult to locate (as could be expected) and therefore we were running slightly late to our appointment and therefore whilst not rushed along, felt as though we needed to speed up our experience. All in all, though I certainly cannot wait until next year and our next photo opportunity.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Showing posts with label Clifford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clifford. Show all posts
Monday, 9 December 2019
Monday, 2 December 2019
Driving uphill with the brakes on
Hi,
And so there I was, talking last week about how after months of not settling and terrible nights and even worse morning routines, I had an all-round better pup. That was until I came home to yet again more books, magazines and paper shredded into tiny pieces. Puppy ownership has really been a handful and I thought that I would be coming to the end of what was a difficult patch, but now it seems as though Frankenstein is going through an even more destructive phase than before. The last time he was this destructive it was the carpet that was the victim, in the end, something which we have only just got round to changing over to hard floor last week, costing us a pretty penny we could have really kept back for a rainy day ... or maybe just a normal Saturday.
I had my MOT on Clifford, my Fiat 500L in red back in September and after passing with an advisory to come back in a few months before the snow and get the brakes checked and have a full winter health check I booked in my appointment back then and thought nothing more of it. Looking at my calendar on Saturday morning with a long list of things to do including Christmas shopping for last-minute bits, a trip to the skip to dump the old carpet and seeing family, not to mention at some point putting up the Christmas Dec's, the last thing I needed was an out of the way almost appointment to the car garage.
Nevertheless, Mr Warehouse convinced me to go, just get it checked and for the ten or fifteen minutes in order to have peace of mind over the winter and into Spring. Allowing Mr Warehouse to drive (he has been doing some lessons and is actually really close to passing hopefully in the new year) we pulled into the garage, the 1.3 litre, 5-door multijet seemed fine and I hoped it would be a quick in-and-out jobbie. Alas, the garage was running low on staff due to sickness so it would be about a couple of hours, so Mr Warehouse and I headed off to the small shopping precinct across the road and grabbed some last-minute pressies, haemorrhaging money left, right and centre.
A few hours later we started heading back, and just as we headed around the corner I got a call from the garage. It wasn't good news. Made to feel like a complete fucking idiot of a woman I was asked when I had the brake pads changed. I explained that I have only had the car for a matter of a few months now (nine months in total) and have not had any work done on him as yet. the mechanic sounded perplexed.
"So are you aware that there are brand new brake pads fitted onto what was then very worn and barely legal brake discs?" The Mechanic said. Explaining further some of the other items that needed doing including two front tyres needing as bald and split, I asked for the price, expecting it to be a couple of hundred quid. So when I heard over £780.00 I nearly fell over.
Trying to take it all in, I hurriedly ended the call saying I would come back immediately. Relaying everything to Mr Warehouse I was worried about the cost. That was something that would wipe me and my savings right out. Back at the garage, there was no getting away from it. My Clifford was barely legal in places and definitely way below the legal limit in places. All four brake discs needed to be replaced, the front two being the worst and along with this the brake pads needed to be replaced also. But it got worse as the mechanic (and what I can only assume as the manager) explained that with the starting mileage being at just over 31,000 miles and now only just over 39,000 I had done less than 7,000 miles and should not have expected the level of wear and tear on the vehicle in such a short period of time and with the limited mileage taken.
Information in hand only meant one thing. The company I bought it from, Evans Halshaw Vauxhall in Bedford (who had shipped in the car from their Leicester branch) had not done the relevant checks needed and necessary. In fact, if anything they would have seen that the brake discs needed replacing and either were on the limit or under the legal limit expected and should have been done at the same time as the brake pads. The fact they had only replaced the brake pads revealed that they were not only cutting corners but wasting money, time and mechanics efforts as already worn brake discs would wear away the brand new brake pads far more quickly and mean a costly bill for the customer in the end.
I had no choice, I had to pay to get my car back. I was advised not to drive away due to the number of defects and problems. With a couple of discounts, the mechanic was able to reduce the bill by about a hundred pounds, although a piss in the ocean with the comparison. And so I paid, opting into a payment plan over the next four months to pay it off. Fuming I sat down for the next three-hours and festered in my aggravation and annoyance, trying my hardest not to try. However, after plucking up the courage and channelling my inner rage at the debacle I called Evans Halshaw in Bedford, they confirmed that the only work done on the vehicle including a rear cracked fog light and the front passenger seat belt casing that was broken were fixed, which they had. However, they washed their hands of anything mechanical
Angered at the situation but understanding at Bedfords "cosmetic look over" my 2013 plate car, I called through to the Leicester branch to ask them the same question - Why did you install brand new brake pads on already very worn brake discs and ergo causing me a loss of over £200.00. I called through and pressed the options to get through to a salesperson. I asked simply for a record of works completed on the car prior to me shipping it down from Leicester to Bedford.
"So sorry I will have to get that to you on Monday as our systems were switched over recently and I will need to export this manually and email over first thing," the salesman said. Reluctantly I obliged and took his name for reference.
Frustrated that I had to lose out on so much money and the added worry and implications of if I hadn't been persuaded by Mr Warehouse to go what could have happened had I needed to rely on those brakes. The car was less than six years old and these were things that should have been done at the time of it being sold. I was angry at not only the money but the time, I had lost my car for over half a day and been unable to do anything else with my time bar waiting for it to be ready. You can be sure that I will be fighting this all the way.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
And so there I was, talking last week about how after months of not settling and terrible nights and even worse morning routines, I had an all-round better pup. That was until I came home to yet again more books, magazines and paper shredded into tiny pieces. Puppy ownership has really been a handful and I thought that I would be coming to the end of what was a difficult patch, but now it seems as though Frankenstein is going through an even more destructive phase than before. The last time he was this destructive it was the carpet that was the victim, in the end, something which we have only just got round to changing over to hard floor last week, costing us a pretty penny we could have really kept back for a rainy day ... or maybe just a normal Saturday.
I had my MOT on Clifford, my Fiat 500L in red back in September and after passing with an advisory to come back in a few months before the snow and get the brakes checked and have a full winter health check I booked in my appointment back then and thought nothing more of it. Looking at my calendar on Saturday morning with a long list of things to do including Christmas shopping for last-minute bits, a trip to the skip to dump the old carpet and seeing family, not to mention at some point putting up the Christmas Dec's, the last thing I needed was an out of the way almost appointment to the car garage.
Nevertheless, Mr Warehouse convinced me to go, just get it checked and for the ten or fifteen minutes in order to have peace of mind over the winter and into Spring. Allowing Mr Warehouse to drive (he has been doing some lessons and is actually really close to passing hopefully in the new year) we pulled into the garage, the 1.3 litre, 5-door multijet seemed fine and I hoped it would be a quick in-and-out jobbie. Alas, the garage was running low on staff due to sickness so it would be about a couple of hours, so Mr Warehouse and I headed off to the small shopping precinct across the road and grabbed some last-minute pressies, haemorrhaging money left, right and centre.
A few hours later we started heading back, and just as we headed around the corner I got a call from the garage. It wasn't good news. Made to feel like a complete fucking idiot of a woman I was asked when I had the brake pads changed. I explained that I have only had the car for a matter of a few months now (nine months in total) and have not had any work done on him as yet. the mechanic sounded perplexed.
"So are you aware that there are brand new brake pads fitted onto what was then very worn and barely legal brake discs?" The Mechanic said. Explaining further some of the other items that needed doing including two front tyres needing as bald and split, I asked for the price, expecting it to be a couple of hundred quid. So when I heard over £780.00 I nearly fell over.
Trying to take it all in, I hurriedly ended the call saying I would come back immediately. Relaying everything to Mr Warehouse I was worried about the cost. That was something that would wipe me and my savings right out. Back at the garage, there was no getting away from it. My Clifford was barely legal in places and definitely way below the legal limit in places. All four brake discs needed to be replaced, the front two being the worst and along with this the brake pads needed to be replaced also. But it got worse as the mechanic (and what I can only assume as the manager) explained that with the starting mileage being at just over 31,000 miles and now only just over 39,000 I had done less than 7,000 miles and should not have expected the level of wear and tear on the vehicle in such a short period of time and with the limited mileage taken.
Information in hand only meant one thing. The company I bought it from, Evans Halshaw Vauxhall in Bedford (who had shipped in the car from their Leicester branch) had not done the relevant checks needed and necessary. In fact, if anything they would have seen that the brake discs needed replacing and either were on the limit or under the legal limit expected and should have been done at the same time as the brake pads. The fact they had only replaced the brake pads revealed that they were not only cutting corners but wasting money, time and mechanics efforts as already worn brake discs would wear away the brand new brake pads far more quickly and mean a costly bill for the customer in the end.
I had no choice, I had to pay to get my car back. I was advised not to drive away due to the number of defects and problems. With a couple of discounts, the mechanic was able to reduce the bill by about a hundred pounds, although a piss in the ocean with the comparison. And so I paid, opting into a payment plan over the next four months to pay it off. Fuming I sat down for the next three-hours and festered in my aggravation and annoyance, trying my hardest not to try. However, after plucking up the courage and channelling my inner rage at the debacle I called Evans Halshaw in Bedford, they confirmed that the only work done on the vehicle including a rear cracked fog light and the front passenger seat belt casing that was broken were fixed, which they had. However, they washed their hands of anything mechanical
Angered at the situation but understanding at Bedfords "cosmetic look over" my 2013 plate car, I called through to the Leicester branch to ask them the same question - Why did you install brand new brake pads on already very worn brake discs and ergo causing me a loss of over £200.00. I called through and pressed the options to get through to a salesperson. I asked simply for a record of works completed on the car prior to me shipping it down from Leicester to Bedford.
"So sorry I will have to get that to you on Monday as our systems were switched over recently and I will need to export this manually and email over first thing," the salesman said. Reluctantly I obliged and took his name for reference.
Frustrated that I had to lose out on so much money and the added worry and implications of if I hadn't been persuaded by Mr Warehouse to go what could have happened had I needed to rely on those brakes. The car was less than six years old and these were things that should have been done at the time of it being sold. I was angry at not only the money but the time, I had lost my car for over half a day and been unable to do anything else with my time bar waiting for it to be ready. You can be sure that I will be fighting this all the way.
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Monday, 8 April 2019
Clifford the big red car!
Hi All,
Leaving the office, the clouds were grey and certainly far from partying in the sky above Bedford this afternoon as I jumped out of a work colleagues new car as she dropped me to the car dealership. I thought about the first time I came here and how I missed my little orange Ford Fiesta, Vivienne. Alas that chapter had ended with the haulage truck turning up last week to take her away, sparing me the anguish of seeing her leave whilst I had gone off to get my hair done!
As I skipped into the dealership I was excited to see my new arrival outside, glinting in the overcast silver sky. The cute little Fiat 500L in red was to be christened "Clifford". He is big. He is red. He is mine. The 1.3 liter, 5-door multijet needed to be moved closer for me to have a proper look around the car and following a visit to meet him on Wednesday of last week I finally got a chance to have a whizz around town. A full panoramic glass roof, touch screen on board computer system, cruise control and even a trusty CD player I was certainly glad of some of the mod-cons. With just over thirty-thousand miles on his 2013 plate clock, it was certainly a steal at £140 per month on a Hire Purchase finance deal.
But I know what your thinking. With several grand sat in the bank, would it not have been better and more cost effective to put that money towards my new car, whatever it may be? However whilst I have essentially walked away not only unscathed but very-much essentially up on my investment, the money would be of much more use to me not tied up and with easy access should I need it in the future, that and the wedding would be nicely taken care of. Why didn't I consider a brand spanking new motor? The fact is that it would depreciate by over a third just by driving it off the forecourt which is always a huge factor in why I have chosen and will probably continue to choose to buy second-hand over new.
That being said, my settlement doesn't make me stupid with money as the dealership found out in more ways that one. Following the visit to meet Clifford on Wednesday and our test drive, I was informed that there had been some minor damages on the vehicle and that they would be fixed before collection in a couple of days time, one being the rear brake light was cracked and the other being the front passenger seat belt casing was missing. Assured that the car would be fully checked and valeted as well before Clifford was ready to come home I was taken into the offices of Evans Halshaw Vauxhall in Bedford, offered a hot chocolate and the paperwork to sign and read through.
However, reading down the page I could see that there was something blatantly obvious that had not been picked up and was potentially a huge issue. The Interest rate. Now cast your mind back to when I initially bought
Vivienne I did not necessarily know about the best way to get finance on a car. I assumed, and rightly so I would be charged a slight premium for opting to go through the salesman who puts on their percentage, and then through the dealership who puts on their percentage to go to the finance company who, you guessed it, put on their percentage. But I never knew of the horrendous rate I was on until the accident. Nearly. Twenty. Percent.
I was shocked, to say the least, and when I discovered what I had been paying for the two and a half years nearly I felt stupid. Normally I am so money conscience and always wanting to know if there is a way I can get it or a similar product cheaper or getting the best deal on something, only to be faced with an extortionate interest rate. Now I know that things were different back then and interest rates were higher, however when reading through the paperwork this time I was certain to make sure that the interest rate was no more than the ten-percent advertised by the saleswomen. But now, as I read through the pages and pages it stared be dead in the face. There it was in black and white. 12.9% APR interest rate. I asked why this was different to a few days ago when I initially enquired about the car and was met with a rude response.
The rotund, grey-haired gentleman told me that it was what it was and it had always been that rate whether I was to borrow five pound or five thousand pounds.
"Well it is only a three-percent difference, I can't see what the issue is?" He scoffed as I continued reading through, trying to work out my next move while deciphering the technical language and car jargon.
"This is not was agreed or explained to me," I said boldly as I pushed the paperwork back across the desk. I stood up and thanked the sales lady for showing me the car and stated I would be in touch as the car was not the issue, the interest rate (and the old farts attitude) was. Spinning on my heels I turned and left, hoping they would call me back and offer a more reasonable rate.
They did not, however arriving back home I had no sooner sunk into the black couch then I had a phone call. It was the finance manager.
"I am sorry you have had this experience," he explained "I do hope that you will let me rectify this. You see I could essentially give you the car for 0% APR but that would mean I would be in negative commission and wouldn't make any money from the sale, so I am happy to beat the initial offer and settle at 9.9% if you are happy with this?" He continued. I thought long and hard about what he had to say. Time was running out on the hire car and I needed to make some decisions and fast. On agreeing that I was happy to settle at the now reduced rate (not that 0.01% is hardly a huge discount) I explained that considering I could go to a bank or online and get a loan for less than a third of what I was expected to pay, and I was already sensitive about the interest rate since last time I bought a car I was taken for a ride (I would excuse the pun but I love it too much)!
Happy I went along my merry way and was excited to pick up my car in a few days time once the work had been completed on the rear brake light and the front passenger seat belt casing. Although less than twenty-four hours after the APR debacle I had another phone call from the dealership.
"So the front passenger seat belt casing will not be replaced due to the age of the car (its a 2013 plate car - less than six years old) but also because the part is a couple of hundred quid as the part comes only as a set and goes right the way under the seat." The sales lady explained. Fuming I ended the phone call and wondered what to do next. I had even less time now until my hire car went back and needed something soon.
After getting some advice from work colleagues who knew the car industry well, I called the general manager of the dealership and asked why this could not be fixed as part and parcel of the works, considering all the issues I have had, and with special thought to the fact that whilst I am buying a used car, this was now a broken car with an issue that was not detailed on the pictures, nor on the information held on the website. Going off to investigate I was prepared to ask for something cheekily to be thrown in if they could not fix it free of charge, however I needn't have put on my boxing gloves, for when the manager called back moments later I was told that this would be done as soon as the part was in and without any cost to myself.
With no noticeable damage or scratches to the paintwork and after being shown around and how to use him, I bid farewell to the sale lady (although I am certain she was more pleased to see me go) and with that, Clifford's almighty diesel engine steered me homeward bound. I am certainly looking forward to more adventures together, and hopefully even sharing it as Mr Warehouse and I expand our family in the future. Road trips, holidays and sneaky trips to the shops, I will be sure that Clifford and I will be riding high!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Leaving the office, the clouds were grey and certainly far from partying in the sky above Bedford this afternoon as I jumped out of a work colleagues new car as she dropped me to the car dealership. I thought about the first time I came here and how I missed my little orange Ford Fiesta, Vivienne. Alas that chapter had ended with the haulage truck turning up last week to take her away, sparing me the anguish of seeing her leave whilst I had gone off to get my hair done!
As I skipped into the dealership I was excited to see my new arrival outside, glinting in the overcast silver sky. The cute little Fiat 500L in red was to be christened "Clifford". He is big. He is red. He is mine. The 1.3 liter, 5-door multijet needed to be moved closer for me to have a proper look around the car and following a visit to meet him on Wednesday of last week I finally got a chance to have a whizz around town. A full panoramic glass roof, touch screen on board computer system, cruise control and even a trusty CD player I was certainly glad of some of the mod-cons. With just over thirty-thousand miles on his 2013 plate clock, it was certainly a steal at £140 per month on a Hire Purchase finance deal.
But I know what your thinking. With several grand sat in the bank, would it not have been better and more cost effective to put that money towards my new car, whatever it may be? However whilst I have essentially walked away not only unscathed but very-much essentially up on my investment, the money would be of much more use to me not tied up and with easy access should I need it in the future, that and the wedding would be nicely taken care of. Why didn't I consider a brand spanking new motor? The fact is that it would depreciate by over a third just by driving it off the forecourt which is always a huge factor in why I have chosen and will probably continue to choose to buy second-hand over new.
That being said, my settlement doesn't make me stupid with money as the dealership found out in more ways that one. Following the visit to meet Clifford on Wednesday and our test drive, I was informed that there had been some minor damages on the vehicle and that they would be fixed before collection in a couple of days time, one being the rear brake light was cracked and the other being the front passenger seat belt casing was missing. Assured that the car would be fully checked and valeted as well before Clifford was ready to come home I was taken into the offices of Evans Halshaw Vauxhall in Bedford, offered a hot chocolate and the paperwork to sign and read through.
However, reading down the page I could see that there was something blatantly obvious that had not been picked up and was potentially a huge issue. The Interest rate. Now cast your mind back to when I initially bought
Vivienne I did not necessarily know about the best way to get finance on a car. I assumed, and rightly so I would be charged a slight premium for opting to go through the salesman who puts on their percentage, and then through the dealership who puts on their percentage to go to the finance company who, you guessed it, put on their percentage. But I never knew of the horrendous rate I was on until the accident. Nearly. Twenty. Percent.
I was shocked, to say the least, and when I discovered what I had been paying for the two and a half years nearly I felt stupid. Normally I am so money conscience and always wanting to know if there is a way I can get it or a similar product cheaper or getting the best deal on something, only to be faced with an extortionate interest rate. Now I know that things were different back then and interest rates were higher, however when reading through the paperwork this time I was certain to make sure that the interest rate was no more than the ten-percent advertised by the saleswomen. But now, as I read through the pages and pages it stared be dead in the face. There it was in black and white. 12.9% APR interest rate. I asked why this was different to a few days ago when I initially enquired about the car and was met with a rude response.
The rotund, grey-haired gentleman told me that it was what it was and it had always been that rate whether I was to borrow five pound or five thousand pounds.
"Well it is only a three-percent difference, I can't see what the issue is?" He scoffed as I continued reading through, trying to work out my next move while deciphering the technical language and car jargon.
"This is not was agreed or explained to me," I said boldly as I pushed the paperwork back across the desk. I stood up and thanked the sales lady for showing me the car and stated I would be in touch as the car was not the issue, the interest rate (and the old farts attitude) was. Spinning on my heels I turned and left, hoping they would call me back and offer a more reasonable rate.
They did not, however arriving back home I had no sooner sunk into the black couch then I had a phone call. It was the finance manager.
"I am sorry you have had this experience," he explained "I do hope that you will let me rectify this. You see I could essentially give you the car for 0% APR but that would mean I would be in negative commission and wouldn't make any money from the sale, so I am happy to beat the initial offer and settle at 9.9% if you are happy with this?" He continued. I thought long and hard about what he had to say. Time was running out on the hire car and I needed to make some decisions and fast. On agreeing that I was happy to settle at the now reduced rate (not that 0.01% is hardly a huge discount) I explained that considering I could go to a bank or online and get a loan for less than a third of what I was expected to pay, and I was already sensitive about the interest rate since last time I bought a car I was taken for a ride (I would excuse the pun but I love it too much)!
Happy I went along my merry way and was excited to pick up my car in a few days time once the work had been completed on the rear brake light and the front passenger seat belt casing. Although less than twenty-four hours after the APR debacle I had another phone call from the dealership.
"So the front passenger seat belt casing will not be replaced due to the age of the car (its a 2013 plate car - less than six years old) but also because the part is a couple of hundred quid as the part comes only as a set and goes right the way under the seat." The sales lady explained. Fuming I ended the phone call and wondered what to do next. I had even less time now until my hire car went back and needed something soon.
After getting some advice from work colleagues who knew the car industry well, I called the general manager of the dealership and asked why this could not be fixed as part and parcel of the works, considering all the issues I have had, and with special thought to the fact that whilst I am buying a used car, this was now a broken car with an issue that was not detailed on the pictures, nor on the information held on the website. Going off to investigate I was prepared to ask for something cheekily to be thrown in if they could not fix it free of charge, however I needn't have put on my boxing gloves, for when the manager called back moments later I was told that this would be done as soon as the part was in and without any cost to myself.
With no noticeable damage or scratches to the paintwork and after being shown around and how to use him, I bid farewell to the sale lady (although I am certain she was more pleased to see me go) and with that, Clifford's almighty diesel engine steered me homeward bound. I am certainly looking forward to more adventures together, and hopefully even sharing it as Mr Warehouse and I expand our family in the future. Road trips, holidays and sneaky trips to the shops, I will be sure that Clifford and I will be riding high!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)