With the spark of energy provided by Tom’s old battery the previously inanimate beast sprang to life and we took it out for a test run in the Yorkshire rain and an invaluable lesson was learnt: A bus stop is less draughty than our taxi and the heater doesn’t produce hot air. Coats and blankets may well be the order of the day for the overnight leg of the journey.
All in all, it was remarkably well behaved (if a little plodding - sorry if you were in the queue behind us on the A1079) with the usual exception of the electrics. I am convinced that the cable jungle under the dash has become self aware. What with the radio mysteriously starting to work, the indicators sometimes flashing and sometimes coming on constantly (with no discernable pattern) and the unidentified button by the gear leaver I think our vehicle is the next incarnation of KITT - if it starts talking to us in a camp voice we’ll know for certain.
Still, after this weekend’s work it is at least in a state in which I would be happy to set off on our journey. That’s not to say that we’re done but I think [touch wood] we’re on the home straight of the first leg.