The sheer enjoyment I was having with my Renault 5 GT
Turbo made any concerns I may have had regarding the place I’d bought it
from disappear from my mind, but slowly the true state of this particular
car revealed itself. It started with black smoke coming out of the exhaust
pipe, which I soon learnt was the turbocharger on its way out. Then the
car started to overheat, a problem which never really went away how ever
many times it went to my mechanic to be fixed. Eventually I had to have
the engine replaced as its constant thrashing by previous owners had
finally caught up with it. The overheating aspect was a constant drain on
my enthusiasm and confidence in the car. I knew that turbocharged engines
tended to run hotter than normally aspirated engines, but this car seemed
to want to overheat nearly every time I used it. We tried the cooling fan
and the switch, the thermostat, the intercooler, the water pump (which I
managed to replace myself after much swearing and grazing of hands) but
nothing seemed to work. I lost count of the number of times that I had to
pull over if I was stuck in traffic and then lift the bonnet and start
fiddling around with the cooling system. The reason for the overheating
was a lack of water circulating round the cooling system, thus creating
air pockets. A side effect of this was that the air (and what little water
there was) would heat up and thus expand, and this would result in the
coolant hoses becoming rock hard, and in one extreme case one of them
burst. The standard procedure for me to perform at the roadside would be
to release the pressure by loosening the cover on the coolant reservoir
and then topping up the system with water (I had quickly learnt to keep a
jerry can full of water in the boot at all times). Unfortunately I would
invariably burn my hands whilst undoing the reservoir as the system would
erupt like a geyser, but I soon got used to this. The other problem of
course is that you should never refill the cooling system whilst the
engine is hot, and certainly not whilst it’s close to meltdown, so I
really wasn’t doing the engine any favours by carrying out this procedure
on a regular basis.
For
as long as I owned the GT Turbo I spent more time looking at the
temperature gauge than looking at the road, and it’s a habit which took me
years to overcome once I’d got rid of it. The engine would only overheat
if I was in traffic; in normal circumstances where there was a fairly
constant supply of cool air to the radiator, the car would run at an
acceptable temperature. It was any prolonged period where the engine was
ticking over but the car wasn’t moving when things would start to get a
bit too hot. This was ably demonstrated when I decided that I would drive
my sister and I to my mum’s house near Paris in the car (yes, I admit that
I did need my head examining), and it was absolutely fine on the French
motorways and country roads. Whilst I’m on the subject, the French may
have many facets to their
culture that we Brits don’t agree with, but they REALLY
know how to build roads, I can tell you. I was amazed at the almost
non-existent levels of ‘road noise’ (i.e. the noise that the tyres make on
the road whilst driving) on French roads – it was as if we were floating
along and not in contact with the road at all. This was compounded by the
fact that I felt such embarrassment on the way home when we emerged from
the train and trundled onto the M20, and it was like driving up some
bloody dirt track. What the French must think when they drive in the UK
God only knows, but exactly the same is true of the Eurostar. When I went
on the train on my own to visit my mum, I found it almost laughable that
this beautiful and futuristic train which had attracted so much hype and
publicity had to trundle its way along the crappy tracks through London
and Kent at about 20 mph, and then as soon as it pulled away from the
station at Calais it accelerated to it’s full 186mph in the space of about
two minutes and didn’t slow down until the outskirts of Paris. But I
digress………….
The GT Turbo was perfectly at home on the main roads in
France and as close to ‘cool as a cucumber’ as it could ever get, but when
we reached the town of Chantilly where my mum lived at the time, there was
a little bit of traffic which didn’t help my poor car which had been
travelling at about 80mph for several hours. As I say, it was fine whilst
it was moving along and there was plenty of air circulating round the
engine bay, but the longer you drove it the worse the problem would be
when you eventually encountered some traffic. On this particular occasion
I managed to get away without having to pull over and perform my usual
emergency procedure, by drawing away the heat from the engine by opening
all the air vents and turning the fan on to maximum heat and maximum
power, but suffice to say that I did begin to get a little worried, i.e. I
was shouting and screaming at the traffic and jumping up and down in my
seat. When we eventually reached my mum’s house a short time later, I
jumped out of the car like Zebedee, not even saying hello to her until I’d
whipped up the bonnet and taken off the reservoir cover. Whilst we were in
France, I had some great fun with a friend of my mum’s who owned a
bona-fide left hand drive BMW M3. We went out for several ‘races’ in our
cars, though I must admit that I had trouble keeping up even in my own
pocket rocket. Before we came home I managed to get a new cooling fan
switch from the local garage (thank God I was driving a Renault) which
seemed to help a bit, and I remember my mum telling me that she’d
embarrassed herself at this same garage by asking for a new headlamp for
her own car, but her grasp of the French language at the time was still
rather shaky and what she actually asked them for was a chicken.
Another incident of note where my car overheated was on
the way to a gay pub in Greenwich called The Gloucester (as featured in
the film Beautiful Thing if anyone’s seen it). There were five of us in
the car on this particular evening, and the traffic had been particularly
bad on the journey so far. As we approached a roundabout on the outskirts
of Greenwich, I realised that the car was almost past the point of no
return and I had to find somewhere to pull over and do the necessary.
Unfortunately there was nowhere to stop before the roundabout as it was a
dual carriageway, but I could see a lay-by just around the corner off of
the first exit and decided that I could pull in there. The problem was
that I knew that if I had to stop at the roundabout to wait for the
traffic to pass the engine would explode, so I had to pretty much pull
straight out onto the roundabout whether there was a car approaching from
one of the other exits or not. Fortunately I knew that the Renault had
enough power to perform this feat without jeopardising either the car or
its occupants, so as I approached the roundabout I didn’t bother slowing
down, but could just see out of the corner of my eye a car pulling onto
the roundabout. I calculated that I would be able to pull in front of it
with just enough space to spare, but what the corner of my eye didn’t
notice was that it was a police car. Of course all this happened in a
matter of seconds, and I knew that regardless of the police I still had to
sort out the car, so after pulling out in front of them I turned the
corner and pulled straight into the lay-by, which I’m sure was very
helpful to them as they would have asked me to pull over anyway.
Sure
enough, the lights and sirens went on and they followed me into the
lay-by, but I initially ignored them and started to rush about as usual
opening the bonnet and fiddling about with the engine, trying my best to
answer the policeman’s questions as politely as possible. His first
question was the usual ‘Is this your car, sir?’ to which I replied
‘Yes’. The second question was ‘Where are you going?’ which I replied to
straight away. The fact that I’d told him that we were all off to a
well-known gay pub probably didn’t help matters, and this prompted his
colleague to put his head through the open window of the Renault and
inspect all my friends, who by this point were either pissing themselves
with laughter or shitting their pants from the stunt I’d just pulled. He
then asked me for my driving licence which I duly produced, and after
examining it for a few seconds he asked me what my address was. To this
day I’m still amazed (and eternally grateful) at my brain for coming the
rescue in a split second. You see, I’d moved house a month or so
previously but hadn’t yet sent my licence back to the DVLA to have the
details changed, but fortunately my brain remembered this fact and quoted
the policemen my former address rather than the new one. I then went on to
explain the situation with the car overheating and this being the reason
for my somewhat dangerous stunt on the roundabout, and fortunately the
engine was exhibiting it’s usual blistering heat (of the kind that makes
the air shimmer) and clouds of steam so it was not as if I was making the
whole thing up. The two constables seemed satisfied with my explanation,
and of course I spouted the usual apologies and that I would get the
problem fixed as soon as possible. After the engine had cooled down a bit
and I’d refilled the system, we went on our way and had a nice evening at
the pub.
The problem with the overheating came to a head when
I’d reached the point where I could only make the short journey from home
to work and back without the problem occurring. Any longer journeys would
have meant the engine having the time to heat up to a point where the
trouble would start, and at this point I’d just had enough. I made the
decision that I’d rather get a reconditioned engine for the car and then
sell it in full working order rather than trying to sell it with an
overheating engine and get peanuts for it, but unfortunately my funds at
the time meant that I had to do this as cheaply as possible. I ended up
going back to the same place that I bought the car and buying a
reconditioned engine off of him, though I must have been crazy to even
consider it after all the trouble I’d had with the car so far. Fortunately
the new engine was fine, although the car was off the road for about three
weeks whilst it was being fitted. Before I replaced the engine I had to
replace the turbocharger which was on its way out and started to billow
black smoke out of the exhaust pipe. The period between the start of the
smoke and the replacement of the turbocharger wasn’t much fun because the
fumes managed to seep into the cabin somehow, and this was especially
apparent when on the motorway. How I didn’t die from carbon monoxide
poisoning I’ll never know. I had a very patient and understanding mechanic
at the time who over the years had become more than familiar with each of
may cars, but the GT Turbo spent almost as much time in his garage as it
did on the road. Such was my blindly stubborn attitude towards the car
which made me hang on to it for so long throwing money at it, I often
didn’t have the means to pay for the repairs immediately even though I
needed to use the car for work and gigs. As he’d been my grandfather’s
mechanic for many years, he knew me well enough and was kind enough to let
me pay for most of the work in instalments, sometimes with embarrassingly
long gaps in between payments. On top of that I would visit him at least
one a week to ask his advice about something or other or to get him to
look at something, so I really did get my money’s worth out of him.
I also had an unfortunate incident (which this time
wasn’t a fault of the car) when I was driving behind a refuse collection
lorry one day, and suddenly a small log fell off the top of it and bounced
into the road in front of my car before smashing the front bumper. I was
so gob smacked at what happened that by the time I’d pulled over to
inspect the damage, the lorry had disappeared into the distance and I had
no opportunity to note the registration number. Many a phone call to the
local council followed, but because I had (a) no registration number for
the refuse lorry and (b) couldn’t remember what colour the lorry was to
identify whether it was the council’s own vehicle or that of a
sub-contractor, I couldn’t prove to them what had happened. In the end
they offered to pay for half of the repair cost, which for once I thought
was very charitable of them, but the whole episode just made me think that
the car was jinxed.
As much as the car was great fun when it was working
and I loved it to bits, I finally admitted defeat after a couple of years
and decided that enough was enough. I can’t remember exactly how much I
paid for it – around £2500 I think – but I eventually sold it for £1750
which wasn’t bad I suppose, though I must have spent at least a grand just
keeping it going, never mind the hungry petrol bills. If my stupidity at
buying the first car I saw and even going back to the same place to buy a
replacement engine wasn’t unbelievable enough (plus the huge amount of
money the car had cost me to run, insure and just keep on the road) then
my next choice of car would surely confirm that I should have been carted
off to the funny farm……………….