Postscript - lunar tractor

Eurotractor spotted on the moon ..... after some time at 12 mph.

Courtesy of Victoria McArthur aka Vixorange

Saturday 12 July - photographs

Saturday 12 July - the last post

Well, this is it: my ostensible reason for bringing the tractor all the way to Saillagol. The restored windmill and the restored tractor came together to move the earth - well, the tower of the mill, anyway.

It was the weekend of the Saillagol village fête, and we were asked if it would be possible to open the windmill to the public as part of the celebration. Since we were also intending to have a ceremony to re-inaugurate the mill following last year's restoration, we suggested combining the two. We expected about 100 people, but I reckon more like 150 came. The previous evening there was a film show in the village square where M Bord of the Quercy Rural Video association showed two films - the first showed the mill in 1983, when it was still working, during the visit of a party of school children. The second was a very complimentary summary of the tractor trip and last year's mill restoration. Unfortunately, I think it is too large to attach to this blog, at least at my up-load speeds. We decided to offer Pimms to everyone in order to add a flavour of the English summer party to the affair, at the slight risk this could be misunderstood. In fact, after a few tentative questions (is it "Coca"? is is alcoholic?), Pimms went down a storm, and we got through over 30 litres of the stuff.

Everyone was thus in good shape for the ceremony itself, starting with the attachment of the canvas to the sails (sadly, no adult volunteers from my family to climb up and fix them in place). Although there was barely enough wind to turn the sails, even after the tractor had turned the tower into the wind (see video above), village teen power hanging onto the sails was enough to provide some semblance of motion. All this was followed by a short speech by me (read, I'm afraid, since at times of stress even my rudimentary French tends to desert me), to which M Christian Frauciel, the Mayor, responded with charm and wisdom. Many people climbed the tower to see the internal workings of the mill, though, with barely a zephyr of wind, we were unable to grind any corn on this occasion. We were very pleased that no-one fell down the unprotected stairs, nor out of the upper windows. One thing we have learned is that "health and safety" rules in France are subject to a great deal of pragmatic interpretation.

Barbara and I were delighted that all our family (4 children plus spouses/partners, plus 7 grandchildren) were able to join us in Saillagol for this amazing day, and we felt extremely proud to have been able to restore to working condition the windmill, which in many ways embodies the spirit of this lovely little village. I felt pretty good about the tractor too, though I know I have to replace the petrol tank and do something about the oil leak from the rear axle - and yes, I did get the back wheels swapped around beforehand, in order to forestall any more comments about them rotating the wrong way....

I think we may have to open the mill again for next year's fête - suggestions for an alternative to Pimms will be gratefully received.

Because I don't seem to be able to add anything else to this particular post, a series of photographs selected from the many kindly provided by Michel Poreaux, Victoria McArthur, Sam Hyde, and Tom Hyde will follow, I hope, in a supplementary post.

Press cover

Before I post my final blog, here are three articles I have seen from French local papers:

From La Dépêche (Tarn et Garonne) anticipating my arrival at Saillagol, unfortunately with a photograph of the tractor in an "intermediate" state of restoration...

From the Villefranchois, describing my arrival in Saillagol.

From Les Informations Dieppoise. recording my emergence from the Newhaven-Dieppe ferry

Day 15 - to Saillagol

Leaving La Métairie Basse, the early morning was foggy and I took photographs of the slightly surreal landscape. I was advised by Richard to take the unpaved track down to Conduché where the Célé joins the Lot, as it is less steep than the normal paved road to St Martin Labouval. The track was rough, with deep flooded potholes and fallen trees, but it worked, and I met Barbara, filming (may be added later), in St Martin L. We agreed to meet before noon at Varaire, possibly to have lunch. The route via Limogne was straightforward, and it was a slightly odd experience to be driving through these familiar places with the tractor. No-one here turns a hair, of course. I was parked in the village square at Varaire by 11am, just as a ceremony to celebrate the re-opening of the library was about to start. So there were plenty of people, many of whom took an interest in the tractor.

Barbara phoned then to say that a film team from the Quercy rural video assocation was at Saillagol, intending to record my arrival, but had now decided to hot-foot it over to Varaire. Much excitement in the square as I drove round a couple of times for the camera, and headed off for the last few km to Saillagol.

I arrived unaccompanied (not deliberately, just a communication screw-up) at a by-road into Saillagol, and gave myself a symbolic cheer as I passed the village sign. At our house I was filmed doing circuits of the mill, and gave a short interview describing my reasons for the trip, my experiences on the route and so on; I look forward to seeing the result.

Thereafter, much champagne and a quiet afternoon, sinking into early unconsciousness.....

I will, once I can persuade France Telecom that our phone and internet connection really does not work when it rains, aim to post an epilogue, but experience suggest this may take a few days yet.

Day 14 Carennac to Sauliac

A sunny morning after last night's storms, and the tractor brought out a large group of English hotel guests, with reactions varying from the admiring to the frankly astonished. The hotel proprietor's wife and I took photos, as above.

From Carennac, south to Gramat where I managed to get completely lost in the town's road system. I finally found myself going up an increasingly narrow and steep lane, which I prayed would eventually intersect with a main road, because there was no possibility of turning round or reversing. Thanks more to Garmin than a higher power I eventually found myself on the D807, and headed down, via Quissac and Blars, to Sauliac sur Célé, where I had arranged to rendezvous with Barbara at 2pm. I had an opportunity to relax for an hour before she, and the rain, arrived. We were able to set about exploring the next and final day's route by car, an unprecedented luxury for me. It was even more terrifying than usual to be driven, now that my internal velocity sensor was set firmly at an average of 17km/hr.

We stayed the night at our friends Helen and Richard's place, La Métairie Basse (http://pagesperso-orange.fr/metairie.lot/). It is a lovely house in a tranquil environment high above the Célé.

Day 13 Hairpin bends without brakes

I left Segonzac this morning, intending today to be a fairly modest run, passing Brive to the south west and moving some way east as well as south; it still turned out at 100km. Via Larche, and then on to Souillac. The weather was OK at first - some sun, though threatening clouds. But at Souillac the heavens opened, and I climbed out of the town towards Martel in about 15 minutes of cloudburst. The road was flooded to at least 4 inches in places - no problem for a tractor, but I found that the front wheels pump water very efficiently straight onto the driver's feet. By Martel it was dry again, and then a scary sequence of hairpin bends as the road descended at 7% for about 2km. Engine braking worked fine, which is just as well, because my one remaining brake would never have stopped the tractor.

Crossed the Dordogne river into the Lot at about 3pm and found my hotel at Carennac http://www.france-for-visitors.com/dordogne/perigord-noir/carennac.html. The village is very much a tourist attraction, and it is easy to see why. I visited an excellent exhibition of local vernacular architecture in the Chapter house. At the hotel, I asked if I could put the tractor in their small car park, and this provoked a lot of interest by the proprietor and his staff. It turned out that he is a tractor enthusiast and we had another lengthy discussion on the merits of various tractors with the Ferguson heritage. I apologised about the oil dripping onto his forecourt from my leaky rear axle, and he confirmed that they all used to do that. He also said the brakes had never been any good, even on the newer ones. He insisted I parked the tractor in his own garage, next to his slightly later Massey Ferguson (photo). This turned out to be fortunate because that evening we had a huge storm. It started with 15 minutes of intense hail, with stones the size of marbles, and continued with another half hour of tropical downpour. The road in front of the hotel turned into a river, lifting tarmac, and washing away the gardens opposite. Unusual for June they said; it doesn't normally happen until August. I learned afterwards that damage included broken solar panel arrays.

As I'm now getting so close, I've spoken to Barbara and arranged to meet up at Sauliac sur Cele tomorrow afternoon, with a view to staying the night somewhere nearby.

Day 12 Haute Vienne to Correze

I left Cieux in light continuous rain, which became heavier as the morning progressed. Kathy and Tony French, at whose delightful chambres d'hotes, Les Volets Bleus, I stayed, took photos and a video as I departed. I have now clocked up over 1000km on this voyage! I passed the village or Oradour sur Glane, whose inhabitants were massacred in June 1944 (http://www.oradour.info/) and which has been left untouched ever since. I felt I ought to stop and look but, partly because of the rain, and partly because it seemed somehow inappropriate with my odd form of transport, I didn't. I will return.

My route took me by minor roads down to Nexon, where I had a back-up plan to stop overnight if the weather was too bad. Refuelled at a supermarket there, and had the customary conversation with a shopper there about the tractor. From there to St Yrieix sur Perche, which is a large town with a complex road system in which I got lost as usual. The rain came on hard again at about 2pm, which slowed me down and made driving quite unpleasant. Finding my stopping place at Segonzac, a tiny village in the Correze, was hard enough - it is high up in the hills, but my chambres d'hote, the Pre Laminon
http://www.prelaminon.com/was nearly impossible, requiring two or three stops to ask. However, the search was worth it. It is a beautifully converted Correze barn in stunning surroundings, and great place to relax after a pretty unpleasant day. Just before dinner, the rain fell heavier than ever and turned the lanes into rivers. There were two couples also staying at the place; we started the meal with home made aperitifs and our hostess asked us all to guess their origins. The first was made from lilac flowers and I couldn't; but in the second I knew sloe gin when I tasted it so I won a brownie point there. The two French couples were also interested in matters rural, and we talked about global warming and why there are so few swallows this year (I commented that there are plenty in England, though they were late), and about the absence of bees, which they thought was because of pollution.

Day 11 - Brenne to the Limousin

Slight rain today, going south via Douadic (see http://www.jewishtraces.org/rubriques/?keyRubrique=le_camp_de_douadic) to Le Blanc and Belabre. The small road going south from here is very lonely indeed, as far as Lussac les Eglises. Small panic close to there when the engine suddenly revved to the maximum and could not be controlled. Fortunately, I was not going downhill, relying on engine braking, because that all that really works, at the time. It turned out the the throttle linkage had unscrewed itself, so it was easily repaired.
After Magnac, having left the Brenne the landscape becomes much more hilly and wooded, with many small dairly farms. There are many steep hills, fortunately marked on the map enably me to navigate around the worst ones. I refuelled in Cieux and, as usual, the tractor and the voyage attracted interest. I stpped in the var park there and one oldish guy drove in specially for a chat. He knew a lot about Fergusons, and we discussed engines; he also, as is now common, was kind enough to point out that the rear tyres are rotating in the wrong direction.
I estimate I have about another 250km to go, which should make a Saturday morning arrival possible - nothing going wrong meanwhile. The weather forecast for tomorrow is bad.

Day 10 - Loire to the Brenne

Left Fleuray, just north of the Loire in cool and overcast weather. Although the Loire itself and its chateaux are undoubtedly beautiful, the surrounding landscape is quite dull, with large hedgeless cereal fields. However, the first small vineyards started to appear - the first since Chilford! - which reinforced the sense of progress. I crossed the Loire at Chaumont and, shortly after, the Cher, close to Montrichard. South through a military zone (no photographs) to Orbigny and Montresor. I stopped at the latter scenic village for coffee and to get warm. Used a bit of "red" road (ie a major highway), the D975, to get around Chatillon, fearing heavy traffic, but there was virtually none. I refulled close to Chatillon and was concerned afterwards to see petrol coursing down the side of the tank and onto the hot exhaust manifold. Luckily it did not ignite, or I think France may have been missing an entire petrol station. The problem was that the fixed screw section of the filler cap had detached, probably through previous rough usage. I fixed the whole lot down with the essential duck (or is it duct?) tape, and pressed on.

Other than this minor problem, it was a good run today, and I have stopped for the night at the Auberge de la Gabriere http://www.auberge-36-gabriere.com/, close to Linge. A couple on push bikes asked me about the trip. He said that only the English would do a thing like this, but in a very complimentary way. Helps to stay alive he said. I felt quite good about that.

The Brenne is beautiful. From my room (photo) the view over the lake was wonderful.

South from the Dordogne (downhill?)

Lacking the photographs of exotic locations (allbethey wet) across the south of France, I post a photo of this essential tool for all you eccentric budding Ferguson fanciers out there; without this Pa would not have rebuilt the tractor. Actually he may have rebuilt it, but not in the same way. Last night he was spotted at Carennac, just south of the Dordogne, and barring juggernauts, steep hills and too much wine he should be on the last few days of this epic journey and able to post all the glorious photographs soon.

Wet...

Pa is presently sans internet access, so in his absence I am posting a photo of him in his wet weather gear. I bet he is so utterly grateful for all the modern ultra-waterproofing materials he has been presented with. Next to covering him in latex, this souwester and fluorescent cape combo is de rigueur on the stormy continent. He is presently wet in Brive and heading south. I command you, dearest father to take more photographs.

Saturday - cruise control

Leaving the excellent Hotel du Commerce in Oucques this morning, I refuelled at a small petrol on the edge of the town. There was only one pump and the owner, M Aubrey, was enhusiastic about the tractor. He told me that many Fergusons (and Fords) were imported to France after WW2 to work on the reconstruction of the country. I asked if there are still many around, but he thought not now. Overall, I've had probably half a dozen people tell me that their dad or other relative used to have one. Probably reflects the continued strong community connection to farming, in this part of France at least.

I plotted a route down to Fleuray, near Amboise, using almost entirely very small roads. Although the landscape leading on towards the Loire is quite flat, it was a pleasant journey with almost no traffic. In the early part of the day it was pleasantly warm, though by midday it was only by keeping moving (at 18km/h...) that I stayed cool. I reckon it must have hit over 30C, and also some cloud was building up. I reached Fleuray at about 1.30, and was pleased to be able to sit out with a couple of beers.

The tractor speed control now operates very differently, M Sires' fairly brutal bending having removed the friction on the throttle mechanism. If I set the speed, and it's quite sensitive, it will hold that speed up modest hills. Obviously a precursor of modern cruise control. However, as I explained yesterday, it is wildly unstable on a sudden change of speed, eg on starting off, but I can try to live with that.

It was my shortest run today - only 50km -so I shall need to be a bit more ambitious from Monday on. I'm taking a day off tomorrow, savouring the prospect of a late breakfast and not having to get kitted up to sit on a tractor for several hours. I tell myself I've earned it; I've travelled 390km in France, making it 670km since setting off last Saturday morning. Must be close to halfway!

Finally I' ve succeeded in posting the picture of yesterday's encounter with my new friend and his wife on their tandem. I mailed the pictures to him last night, and now have the additional information that his name is Phil and he was in the French navy. I may or, may not have mentioned that he is a keen radio ham, but I now have his call sign too.

Friday. One week done

Set off from Illiers Combray, fairly confident the fuel problem was understood, and so it seems. Crossed the Loir ( the small one) at Montigny, and lunched at Cloyes. Slightly disturbed to notice the amount of oil issuing from the left rear axle, via the brake drum. This renders an already inefficient brake useless, meaning I now have one wheel braking. Setting off after lunch, was intrigued to notice the already hysteresis-prone speed governor now showed essentially 100% hysteresis. I suppose you could say it was binary - either shut right down or flat out. Depending as I do on engine braking to control it on hills, this was a complication I could do without. So, approaching my destination this evening, I stopped by the side of a small road, raised the bonnet, and got out the tools. I concluded there was a friction problem at the carburettor and was trying to fix this, when a French couple turned up on their side by side tandem. En panne? The usual stuff. It turned out that he a is a radio ham, and speaks good English, though his wife does not. So we had a multilingal chat. He advised talking to Bernard Sire, te local garagiste. Pictures of the encounter attached (Or I would if I could make it work - too late at night). Anyway, I saw the said Bernard, and he and a mate diagnosed the governer shaft as the problem. I explained why this was not the case, and they then applied a lotof force to the oil breather pipe which, I have to say, improved the linkage friction, all for 5 Euros. Now, speed control seems have some effect, but the more mathematically inclined of my readershio will recognise what happens when you don't have enough friction in a closed loop control system. That's right - it's quite underdamped, so I go along in a series of lurches until it settles down. As David has observed, a Ferguson tractor is designed to plough a field, not drive at (relatively) high speed across France

Escape from car park- day 6

In the event, the car park was easy. I asked the receptionist to hold the gate open, put in in first gear, kept my head down and drove out. Why did I worry? It was a beautiful morning in Vernon, and I drove in rolling country to the east of Dreux, and then followed the Eure valley towards Chartres. Stopped for lunch at a workmen's place, and ate and drank for 10 Euros. The place held about 30 men at a given time (no women), and everyone was served with incredible efficiency by one lady. As I left, a couple of guys admired the tractor - "magnifique", "bon courage" etc. One did point out that the tyres rotated in the wrong direction - all the better for stopping I said, thinking quickly.

Transnavigatinfg Chartres was a nightmare. In the event, I couldn't avoid using the ring road, and had huge trucks either hammering past, or sitting close behind. Never again.

I'd booked to stay the night some 20km SW of Chartres,a nd eventually reached there about 5.30. I found it odd there was no-one around and, when looking back at my battered Michelin guide was rather horrified to discover it was a restaurant without rooms. Something obviously failed in our communication. I did recall I'd stayed at a place some 12km away earlier in the year, but of course I had no phone number. So, it was back on the tractor for a fast run to Illiers Combray, where I was highly relieved to find a room.

After dinner, I went out for a final look at the tractor, and was a little disturbed to see petrol dripping fast from the carburettor. Luckily, I was assisted in the study of the problem my a fellow guest who pontificated on the likely causes while leaning over it with his lighted cheroot. We agreed it was the chaleur. I believe it was also the cause of Tuesday's difficult starting and subsequent cut-out. I suspect I blocked the air hole in the tank filler cap when I sealed the rusty interior with epoxy paint. So now the cap stays loose.

Tomorrow it's Oucques, which will not be as far as today (130km = 75 miles) which was too much

Should have added the photos

Across the Seine

I left Martin-Eglise, near to Dieppe, this morning in fog and dripping rain. This gradually cleared as I followed the river Varennes down to St Saens, to such an extent I was squinting into the sun by 11am. It's a really beautiful route, on quiet roads, with typical Normandy half timbered houses and dairy farms. From there the landscape is plainer, with large hedgeless arable fields.

At Fleury I wanted to continue south on minor roads, but was frustrated by closure signs, with the effect that I was being forced onto the equivalent of a major British two way highway, with artics thundering past threatening my continued existence. So I turned round, and took the closed road, driving round all the no-entry signs. For 2 miles it was effectively an excavated dirt road, with holes and ramps everywhere. But, no problem for a tractor; the guy sweeping the road with a huge machine didn't turn a hair. I refuelled in Les Andelys, and was rather concerned that the tractor had developed a high pitched squeaking sound. I ran through the possibilities: wheel bearing failing (no, too high a frequency); water pump bearing (maybe - should I have checked the greasing again?); worst of all, what about pre-ignition (really? with a compression ratio of 5:1....). After a while, I put my hand on the bonnet. It stopped. I hadn't set the catch properly. Panic over.

Anyway, I eventually reached my destination at Vernon, and finally crossed the Seine in the process, a total distance of 122km, rather more than I had intended, and really too much. Staying at the Hotel Normandy, where they have an underground car park. Good for security I figured. The only problem is that the gradient into the car park, and the inevitable bend, made it impossible to control the tractor on the feeble brakes; also the head height's not much. So I entered this car park accelerating out of control, crouched down to avoid decapitation. Tomorrow's challenge is to get out.

Weather forecast is good though.

Video - Seaford and the ferry crossing

Video footage from Tractorman's escape from the UK. He looks in great shape - more than can be said for the cameraman (woman) who has clearly been on the gin.

The spirit of Dunkirk lives..

The sheer speed, you can almost see distortion of his features, or is that exultant joy at having made it to the coast?









Our intrepid tractorman is spotted heading across the channel, our photographers having trailed him south were not allowed closer due to border restrictions.

Day 3 and 4

This will have to be short, because it's late and I'm well down the Calvados.
Yesterday was fine. Relatively easy run from Edenbridge down to Newhaven. Stayed over at Alfriston - a pretty village with too many Bank hol tourists. Also a lot of terrifyingly steep hills with sharp bends. With no brakes to speak of, this spices life to a degree I haven't experienced since working with a number of well known consulting companies.

Starting off from Alfriston this morning, I was amazed and delighted to be overtaken by Barbara and David, who had left this morning at 4am to see me off on the ferry. Slight problem as the tractor suddenly stopped in Seaford, but this seems to have been a temporary problem with fuel starvation. The mild panic this induced resulted in me heading off towars Eastbourne, readily correcte once I realised I was lost.

The ferry reached Dieppe at 4.30 pm, and was greeted with a reporter from the local press taking pictures and giving me a short interview. I'd already answered the ovious questions (why are you doing this?) by email, so we restricted ourselves to numerical things like fuel consumption and daily distances. He promises to send photos. Whether there will be an article I'm not sure.

Anyway, tomorrow's ploblem is to cross the Seine without going into Rouen, which is a challenge. Next blog will recount just how great.

still going strong

A classic picture from Tom as he passed through London on Sunday.

(p.s. for those worried about the lack of posts, don't be. His network coverage is patchy, but he is making progress and safely across the channel)

trans Londres

Day 2. Started at 5.30 am from Stansted Abbots, in dry weather. Very little traffic (unsurprisingly) so made good progress down A10 to London Bridge. Phoned Tom from Old Street at 7.20 and was surprised he was already on location, given his hangover. Delighted first to see Fionaulla waving furiously from the central reservation, and then Tom and Steve (P) with cameras. I will try to attach one of Steve's pictures. Good to have achieved the first real milestone of the voyage. It's been quite sunny today, so a much more agreeable journey than yesterday's.

Crossing the North Downs was an interesting experience, with combination of unexpectedly steep and twisting hills with ineffective brakes. David F did warn me of the Biggin Hill to Westerham section, and I was able to savour that.

Arrived at Edenbridge about 1pm, and got a call to say Janet was on her way by car. We went to lunch in the village. Driving at 40mph seemed terrifyingly fast after 170 miles at no more than 12mph. Still, Janet does have brakes.

Spotted: Saffron Waldon - Sat 29th May 10:45am

5 minutes north of Saffron Walden, still full of early enthusiasm, if a little cold. A quick bite and he is on his way again. Having covered 20 miles, he was in search of a petrol station.....

Any sightings across England and France, send in the images and we will post them here.






and a video... he sets off again headed south:

Day 1

Had a great send-off this morning at 8am. Many photos were taken, which will no doubt appear here eventually. Sam et famille intercepted me close to Saffron Walden and Sophie brought coffee and pain au chocolat, which was wonderful. No rain to begin with though skies were very overcast. The light rain started at about 11.30, making me damp. I stopped for a pint in Much Hadham, and came out believing the rain to have stopped. This was a mistake. Around Stansted Abbots it began in earnest, and since the roads were narrow and incredibly busy, I couldn't easily stop. I eventually reached the Marriott at Waltham Abbey (after a few navigational errors) about 3pm, thoroughly wet and cold and not a little dejected. Tried drying my jeans with the hotel iron, but that seems unlikely to work, so that task must await better weather. Went out to refuel, and met a French family at the gas station. They knew Cahors well , and were slightly surprised, but not discouraging, to hear I plan to drive there.

Tomorrow it should be London Bridge and then south, We'll see.

Dress rehearsal

Just 3 days to go before my departure for France. Today was the final trial run, and the longest yet. To Saffron Walden and back via Balsham and Linton. Total distance was 82.2km (51miles) at an average (moving) speed of 20km/h. It used about 20 litres of petrol so, in spite of having weakened the mixture a bit yesterday, the fuel consumption is still only about 12mpg.
The trip to SW had a bit of everything - very narrow lanes, some busy and some not; busy country roads but wide enough for overtaking; towns with roundabouts. In some ways the first are the worst because people can't overtake and half the time I can't see them waiting because my wing mirrors (on loan from Beryl) are obscured by all the stuff on the back of the tractor. Actually, I'm thinking that while in the UK at least, I'm going to make more use of A roads than I had planned; the traffic may be heavier and faster but at least there will be fewer parked vehicles (which are a nightmare when you have more or less non existent brakes) and people can overtake easily.
Final packing will happen on Friday - I now have equipment for most contingencies, including a sleeping bag just in case a planned overnight stop in France fails for any reason, and the next hotel or chambres d'hôte is 30km away. I don't intend driving in the dark. The plan is to get away about 8am on Saturday and to stop the night at Waltham Abbey. I think I can cope with Saturday morning traffic in Saffron Walden, but I really want to avoid Bishops Stortford and Harlow, so I'm going to take a country route via the Hadhams. I reckon the distance is about 55 miles so it's much the same as I've done today. Should be an opportunity, indeed a need, to stop for a modest liquid lunch. Then it's up and away early on Sunday morning straight down the A10 into central London to cross London Bridge before the traffic gets too heavy. I plan to take the A21 south and east and then head for Bromley, Biggin Hill and Westerham, to reach Edenbridge where I shall spend Sunday night. Monday ought to be an easy run down to Alfriston, which is only a few miles from Newhaven from which I depart for Dieppe on Tuesday morning.
That's the plan. The reality will be revealed onthis blog as internet access permits.

Forget Paris-Dakar, here is Cowlinge-Saillagol

So why travel from England to France? Pa has deep attachments to both places. He has lived in Cowlinge Suffolk (http://www.cowlinge.suffolk.gov.uk/) for nearly 30 years, but over the last 10 years has spent increasingly longer periods of time in France, first near Djion, and more recently refurbishing a house in Saillgol and its attached Moulin (http://www.viamichelin.fr/web/Cartes-plans/Carte_plan-Saillagol-82160-Tarn_et_Garonne-France). The tractor is needed over in France for various agricultural projects, what better way to get it there than to drive?

Who can question this desire, roll on London Bridge.

The Ferguson Odyssey

First some background to the vehicle itself: Having in the past returned from forays to the pub with a couple of sheep, some twelve years ago (1998) he was found returning with a very decrepit tractor, for which he had bartered; the cost of a years electricity securing him the Ferguson tractor (http://www.fergusontractor.co.uk/) from some unsuspecting local. This has sat gathering rust outside for nearly ten years, until his middle youth vanishing and retirement upon him, he has found it necessary to fill his life with things other than his devoted woman, loving (but fiscally demanding) children and his delightful, but noisy grandkids. Having built an electronics workshop, raised a wood, donated many power tools to needy offspring, it was time to deal with the bulk of the tractor. This was no superficial primping of the externals but a thorough strip down and an ability I am sorely lacking.

So far he has (and I am so grateful to my Uncle for furnishing me with some of the more esoteric terms and details):Crankshaft reground and fitted with new main journal and con-rod bearings (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crankshaft-vital in converting linear motion into rotational-don't you know?), cylinder block re-bored and oversizes pistons fitted, cylinder head cracks stitch welded and new valve guides and valves installed, replacement rocker shaft and rockers/followers, new clutch and pressure plate, new carburettor, new wiring harness made up, refurbished dynamo and control box cut-out, new exhaust system and silencer (it has a silencer?), steering gear, king pins and ball joints overhauled, road wheels sand blasted and powder coated, new tyres fitted, many body panels repaired or replaced and repainted, new drivers seat, brakes checked for wear and adjusted, transmission and final drive units checked and found to be perfectly serviceable. Phew... There are a few pieces of bodywork to be repaired, but an initial run of 5 miles was successful. Wicked.

Travel in the slow lane

Having spent many years toying with exceedingly fast cars, streaming past other commuters in a streak of colour, such that their oaths once uttered were so far behind as to be in another time, he has now decided to join the ranks of the slow and ponderous aged daytrippers: realistically I suppose his reactions are not what they used to be and his desire to stay alive seems to have increased in direct proportion to his age. So it gives him great pleasure now to be one of those irritating buggers, who used to so annoy him, who toodle along at 20mph, oblivious to or perhaps enjoying, the mounting queue of traffic behind. Except no Fiat Uno or Nissan Micra for Dad and so no zipping along at the hypertensive speed of 40mph, but a Ferguson tractor, lovingly restored by himself, and a thrilling maximum speed of 15mph. And no days trips to Brighton, but a 717 mile trip from Suffolk to Saillagol, Midi-Pyrenees France (http://www.viamichelin.fr/web/Cartes-plans/Carte_plan-Saillagol-82160-Tarn_et_Garonne-France). I am sure Pa will explain the route later, but the plan is to avoid major roads and motorways (and I am fairly sure the fear of the law does not come into this), cross London Bridge early one Sunday morning and collect the ferry for France and proceed along paths suitable for French velos.

Now: PJH 2010.

The lifetime of a trip: one oldish man and his old tractor.

Which ever way you look at it, this is going to be a journey to remember. Ever since I can remember our Pa has been twiddling with electronic gizmos, building, drawing, inspiring us all with a practical and creative grasp of life, such that no challenge is insurmountable. We have all listened spellbound to family stories of him manufacturing explosives and building inventions much to the peril of his brother, who on many occasions came off worse from his experiments, or who perhaps, was an invaluable, though not indivisible part of many of those experiments. The infamous tree explosion springs to mind here. Who needs all their fingers anyway?. A life lived as though it could end tomorrow, hence the need at nearly 70 years to take an ancient tractor some 700 miles from Suffolk to rural Midi Pyrenees. His four children (us) are introducing him to the world of blogging, with the Eurotractor blogspot, as a present on his 70th birthday, and also because this feat needs to be recorded in a truly modern manner. Please don't kill yourself (or anyone else) en route, instead, Cassez une jambe! (As we are sure they say in French theatrical circles....)

Then: Peter John Hyde, 1942.